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EDITED BY CHARLES KNIGHT.
VOLUME V.
Inferior of the Temple Churcli.
PUBLISHED BY CHARLES KNIGHT & CO., LUDGATE STREET.
1843.
DB,^. "^ THE LIBRARY
BRIGHAM YOUN., UNiVERs,Ty
PRoyo. UTAM "
CONTENTS OF VOLUME V.
WITH
THE NAMES OF THE AUTHORS OF EACH PAPER.
.—DOCTORS' COMMONS J. Saunders
.—THE TEMPLE CHURCH. No H. , , . „ •
.—ADVERTISEMENTS W. Weir .
—THE EAST INDIA HOUSE . . . . . J. C. Platt
—HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS OF GUILDHALL J. Saunders
—CIVIC GOVERNMENT „ .
—THE EXCISE OFFICE ...... J. C Platt
—THE COMPANIES OF LONDON .... J.Saunders
— COVENT GARDEN J. Saunders & J.
—THE ADMIRALTY AND THE TRINITY HOUSE W. Weir .
—THE CHURCHES OF LONDON .... J.Saunders
—THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. No. II. . . „
—THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. No. III. . . „ .
—THE HORSE GUARDS . , . . . , W. Weir .
—THE OLD LONDON BOOKSELLERS . . . G. L. Craik
—EXETER HALL ....... J. C. Platt .
—THE GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY J. Saunders
—THE THEATRES OF LONDON .... „ .
-THE TREASURY W. Weir .
—THE HORTICULTURAL AND ROYAL BOTANIC
SOCIETIES ....... J. Saunders
—PRISONS AND PENITENTIARIES • , . J. C. Platt
—LONDON NEWSPAPERS W. Weir
—THE SOCIETY OF ARTS, &c. IN THE ADELPHI J. Saunders
—MEDICAL AND SURGICAL HOSPITALS AND
LUNATIC ASYLUMS . . . . . J C. Platt
CXXV.— LONDON SHOPS AND BAZAARS . . , . G. Dodd
C. Piatt
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. 49
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. 81
. 97
. 113
. 129
. 145
. 161
. 177
. 193
. 209
, 225
. 241
. 257
. 273
. 289
. 305
. 321
. 337
. 353
. 369
. 385
a 2
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS OF VOL. V.
CI— DOCTORS' COMMONS.
Pagk
Doctors' Commons, a mysterious locality . . 1
I'lie Lodge of Doctors' Commons ... 1
The Porters at Doctors' Commons . • • 1
The Royal AVardrobe . • , , • 2
The Fair jNIaid of Kent . , • • . 2
Knight Rider Street . , . . . 2
Herald's College ..,,.♦ 2
The Prerogative Will Office .... 2
Scene in the interior of Doctors' Commons . 2
The two Prerogative Courts .... 3
Introduction of the Funding System . . 3
Increase in the business of Doctors' Commons
since the year 17S9 . • « •
Shakspere's Will ......
Original Wills in Doctors' Commons . .
Connexion between the Church and Wills •
Ecclesiastical Jurisdiction in Testamentary Causes
Endeavours of the Priesthood, after the Esta-
blishment of Christianity, to obtain authority
in temporal, as well as in spiritual, affairs ,
Earliest English Ecclesiastical Courts established
by William the Conqueror ....
The partial authority of the Canon Law esta-
blished by the Ecclesiastics ....
The Court of Arches .....
The Consistory Court of the Bishop of London .
The Court of Admiralty . . . . >.
Interior of the Common Hall of the College .
Cases brought before the Court of Arches . •
Penance for Defamation, still in practice in some
parts of England .....
Report of the nature of the business in the Court
of Arches . • • • • • .
Mode of procedure in the Arches' Court .
Chaucer's Sumpnour . . • . .
Statement of the Bank Solicitor to tlie Commis-
sioners .......
Value of Cross-Examination in Courts of Justice
Doctors of Civil Law .....
Dr. Henry Harvey, the founder of Doctors' Com-
mons .......
Ceremony of the admission of Doctors to practise
as Advocates at Doctors' Commons
Admission of Proctors to practise at Doctors'
Commons .......
The system of Appeal one of the legal beauties of
the Ecclesiastical Courts ....
Stages through which an Appeal sometimes passes
Bill brought before Parliament for abolishing the
abuses of Doctors' Commons . .
Outline of the measure of Reform of the Eccle
siastical Courts now before Parliament .
Jurisdiction of the High Court of Admiralty
The Instance Court ....
The Prize Court .....
Peculiar position of the Judge of the Admiralty
Lord Stowell at the head of the Admiralty Court
through the most eventful period of the last
great war .......
Case of the ship • Minerva,' as related by Lord
Stowell .......
Judgment of Lord Stowell in the ^ Minerva' suit
The name of Arches' Court derived from the
arches below Bow Church, Cheapside • ,
Original connexion bettvecn the Court of Arches
and Bow Churcli * . . • .
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ILLUSTRATIONS.
1. Prerogative Will Office ••••..(
2. Hall of Doctors' Commons .......
3. Yestry-room, formerly Court of Arches, St. Mary-le-Bow •
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Designers.
Engravers.
TlFlIN
Jack-son
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CII.—THE TEMPLE CHURCH.— No. 2.
ITS RESTORATION.
Impulse to the public taste given by the Restora-
tion of the Temple Church . . . .17
Character of the Exterior of the Temple Church
accordant with the character of its founders . 18
Differences of style Avhich prevail in the Rotunda
and Chancel of the Temple Church , .18
The Round 19
Restoration of the Effigies in the Temple Church 20
Effigy of William Pembroke the younger, in the
Temple Church . , . , , .20
Sarcophagi discovered beneath the pavement of
the Temple Church . . . , .21
Present arrangement of the Effigies in the Temple
Church .,.,.,, 21
Aisles of the Round . • . • .21
Heads in the left Aisle of the Round . . 22
Idea that the heads in the Round are probably
intended to convey • • . • .23
Pillars in the Round . . . . .24
Pavement in the Round . . . . .25
Taste for Eastern magnificence acquired by the
Crusaders in their visits to the Holy Land . 25
The early Church Reformers . . . .26
The oblong portion of the Temple Church . 26
First Impression on entering the Temple Church 27
Banners in the Temple Church • . ,27
Inscriptions on the walls of the Temple Church . 28
Decorations of the roof of the Temple Churc'i , 28
Yi
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
The central Window of the Temple Church .
History attached to the Organ in the Temple
Church .......
Present position of the Organ . •
Bust of Lord Thurlow in the Vestry-room of the
Temple Church ..••••
Effigy of Plowden ••••••
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Portraits of the Kings, in the arches between the
Chancel and the Rotunda ....
Persons employed in the decorations of the
Temple Church ..••••
Present state of the Cathedrals in England
Possible progress of Art in England • • •
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ILLUSTRATIONS.
4. The Temple Church from the South • •
5. The Temple Church Interior from the Entrance
G. The Eastern Window, Altar, &c.. Temple Church
Designers.
Anelay
Engravers.
Jackson
CIII.—ADVERTISEMENTS.
External Paper-hangers' Stations . . .
The ' Hanging Committee ' of London . •
Most fashionable places in London for the exhi-
bitions of the Hanging Committee . .
Attractive character of the objects exhibited by the
Hanging Committee .....
Liberties taken by modern Playwrights with the
Chronicles of contemporary Newspapers
Utility of the Ornaments which adorn the stations
of the external Paper-hangers . . •
Heralds, the first advertising mediums . .
Town Drummers ......
Town Bellmen ......
Manuscript Placards .....
Refinement to which the art of Advertising has
been carried in London ....
Advertisements, direct and indirect, explicit and
by inuendo ......
Various vehicles of Advertisements, and forms
which Advertisements assume in London in the
present day ......
The appearance of the external Paper-hanger
Distinction between the real Artist and the mere
mechanical external Paper-hanger
Bill-distributors •..,..
Distinction between the Bill-sticker and the Bill-
distributor ......
Peripatetic Placards .....
Vehicular Placards .....
The Advertising Hat .....
Advertising Vans ....,,
Newspaper Advertisements ....
Dramatic interest connected with the Advertising
columns of a Newspaper ....
Newspaper Advertisements not confined to matters
of business alone .....
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Advertisements de-
' Romance of Real
Specimens of Newspaper
serving a place in the
Life' .......
Advertisement taken from the columns of the
* Chronicle' in 1843 . . • . .
Matrimonial Advertisements ....
School Advertisements . . . • •
Medical Advertisements .....
George Robins's Advertisements •
Progressive improvement in the art of Advertis-
ing in London ......
Newspaper Advertisements in the reign of Queen
Anne .......
Advertisements in the ' Tatler ' . . .
The Advertisers of 1711 . • . . .
Advertisement by the Duchess of Buckingham in
Ltoi ........
Advertisement by the Reverend Orator Henlej',
in 1726 . . ....
Advertisement by Henley in November, 1728
Medical Quackery at its height at the beginning
of the Eighteenth Century ....
Dr. Pechey's Advertisements ....
Announcement by Dr. Herwig .
Advertisement by J. Moore, in the 'Tatler' of
August, 1710
Bill-distributors largely employed by Quack
Practitioners ......
Mr. Baker's Advertisements in the * Tatler ' ,
Advertisement in the 'Tatler' of April, 1710 ,
Advertisements of Private Lotteries . . ,
Lotteries, the great school of mutual instruction
Raffles ........
Little-goes for the sale of Printsellers' and Picture
Dealers' unsaleable stock • . • •
ILLUSTRATIONS.
7. Procession of Placards ,
8. Perambulating Hat •
9. Bill Sticker
Designers
Tiffin
Engravers.
Jackson
j> •
»» *
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CIV.— THE EAST INDIA HOUSE.
Interesting associations connected with the East
India House ••.... 49
Burke's familiarity with whatever* related to
India ^g
Historical Recollections attached to the East
India House • « , , 50
Progress of English Dominion in the* East ' ! 50
Present and former state of Official Servants in
India 5o
Nabobs 51
Progress of good Government evident in the Ad-
ministration of India 51
Length of the Voyage to and from India Seventy
Years back 51
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
VII
Uncertainty and Unfrequency of the Intercourse
between England and India until the middle of
the Eighteenth Century ....
The Character and Objects of Indian Policy ele-
vated by the introduction of Steam Navigation
Bombay now within Five Weeks' distance of Eng-
land .!••.•••
Rapid Increase of Private Intercourse between
England and India .....
Capture of a Portuguese Ship in the reign of
Queen Elizabeth .....
Charter granted to the Earl of Cumberland in
1600, for Trading to the East Indies . •
Little progress made by the English in India dur-
ing the Seventeenth Century . . •
East India Company's Charter Renewed in 1609
The ' Trades Encrease ' built by the East India
Company in 1609 .....
Management of the business of the East India
Company committed in 1612 to a few principal
parties .......
The History of the East India Company, chiefly
a Narrative of Mercantile transactions during
the whole of the Seventeenth Century .
The London History of the East India Company
during the Seventeenth Century . .
The sum of 10,000^. extorted from the East India
Company by the Dake of Buckingham .
Licence granted to Captain John Weddell by
Charles I. in 1635
The Trade to India thrown open by the Repub-
lican Government .....
Tea first an article of the East India Company's
Trade in 1667-8
Dispute as to whether the right of granting
Charters to the East India Company devolved
upon the Sovereign or the Parliament
New Charter granted to the East India Company
by the King in 1693 .....
The Old East India Company dissolved in 1698
A New Company, incorporated by the name of
the ' English Company,' invested with the pri-
vileges of exclusive trade ....
Act passed in 1702 for uniting the two Compa-
nies ........
Important changes made on the renewal of the
Charter to the East India Company in 1781 .
Establishment of the Board of Control in 1784 .
Infringement made on the Company's Charter in
1794
Act by which the Company is now governed
passed in 1833 ......
First English Factory in India established at Ban-
tam in 1602 .••.••
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Firman obtained by the English from the Great
Mogul allowing certain privileges at Surat •
Commercial privileges received by the English
from the Sultan of Achin . . • •
Erection of Fort St. George in 1639 . •
The privilege of trading custom-free obtained by
the English in 1680
Bombay made over to the East India Company
by Charles IT. in 1668 ....
Calcutta founded in 1692 ....
Bombay made in 1G87 the head of all the Esta-
blishments in India .....
Warren Hastings made Governor General in 1773
The Home Government of the East India Com-
pany . . . . « . . •
The Court of Proprietors, or General Court
The Court of Directors ....
Discussions of the Court of Directors conducted
by the same rules as those of the House of
Commons .......
Proceedings of the Court of Proprietors in 1773
Functions of the Court of Directors . •
The Committee of Secrecy . • • •
Functions of the Board of Control
Routine of business between the Court of Direc-
tors and the Board of Control ...
The Military department of the East India House
Various offices of the East India House . .
Sales of the East India Company . . .
Facility in composition a necessary qualification
in Public Men in India ....
Testimony to the industry and ability of the East
India Clerks borne by Mr. Canning in 1822 .
The business of the East India Company pro-
bably transacted first at the * Nag's Head
Inn' .......
Sir William Craven's House in Leadenhall Street
leased to the East India Company in 1701 ,
The Old East India House built in 1720 .
Portico and Pediment of the present East India
House .......
Interior of the East India House • . .
The General Court Room ....
The Court Room ..••..
Statues in the Court Room ....
The Finance and Home Committee Room
The Library of the East India House .
The Museum of the East India House
The Oriental curiosities in the Museum of the
East India House . . . . •
Piece of Musical Mechanism, once belonging to
Tippoo Sultan, preserved in the Museum of the
East India House .....
Paqk
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ILLUSTRATIONS.
10. Exterior of East India House
11. East India House of 1726
12. The Museum, East India House
Designers,
Anelay
Fairuolt
Anelay
Engravers.
Jackson
Sears .
Jackson
49
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CV.— HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS OF GUILDHALL.
Greatest events of which Guildhall was the scene
in former times . ..... 05
No place throughout England so favourable as
Guildhall for Royal and Political manoeuvres . 66
Scene in Guildhall on the 24th of June, 1483 . 66
Death of Edward IV. . . , . .66
Speech of the Duke of Buckingham at Guildhall
on the 24th of June, 1483 . . . ,66
King Richard III. proclaimed . • .67
First efl'ects of the Reformation , . .68
Controversies between Henry VIII. and Cathe-
rine Parr ....... 68
Anne Askew favourably noticed by the Queen
and the Court ...... 68
Arrest of Anne Askew . . . . .63
Examination of Anne Askew • . . .68
h2
via
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Discharge of Anne Askew ....
Anne Askew apprehended again, and committed
to Newgate ,,....
Anne Askew condemned to death for heresy
Torture and Martyrdom of Anne Askew . •
Sir Thomas Wyatt's Insurrection . . •
The Gunpo-\vder Plot . . • • •
Sir Nicholas Throckmorton appointed Server to
the King in lol'i . , . • •
Rise of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton in the favour
of the King ...•••
Behaviour of Throckmorton at the Death of
Edward YI. • • . . « »
^Marriage of Queen Mary and Philip of Spain .
Incident in the character of Philip of Spain .
Insurrection headed hy Sir Tliomas Carew .
Throckmorton's attachment to Queen Elizaheth
Trial of Throckmorton . . . . •
Judges on the Bench at the Trial of Throck-
morton • ••••••
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Charges brought against Throckmorton
Throckmorton charged with having devised to
kill the Queen . . • • • •
Deposition of John Fitzwilliams at the Trial of
Throckmorton ...•••
Throckmorton's answer to the Charges brought
against him .•...«
Legal learning of Throckmorton • • •
Discharge of Throckmorton ....
Effect of the Gunpowder Plot upon the mind of
King James ,,•.••
Proclamation issued for the apprehension of
Gerard, Greenway, and Garnet . • .
Hendlip House used as a place of concealment
by Garnet »...»••
Search instituted at Hendlip House • •
Committal of Garnet to the Tower . • .
Trial of Garnet on the 28th of March, 1606
Garnets Straw ......
Trial of Waller at Guildhall . . . .
ILLUSTRATIONS.
13. Guildhall, about 1750
14. Martyrdom of Anne Askew and others
15. Hendlip House, 1800
Designers.
Anelay
Faiuholt
Engravers.
Jackson
Sly
Paok
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CVI.— CIVIC GOVERNMENT.
Ancient Saxon Law • • . . •
Trade Guilds ......
The Municipal Government of England one of the
great and still existing Institutions of Antiquity
The exterior of Guildhall • . . .
Commencement of Guildhall in 1411
Modes adopted for obtaining the requisite moneys
for the construction of Guildhall .
The Justice Room of Guildhrdl
Courts of Queen's Bench and Common Pleas
Portraits of the Judges in the Courts of Queen's
Bench and Common Pleas ....
Chapel or College formerly standing on the site
of the Law Courts .....
Interior of Guildhall .....
Hall of Guildhall
(h-ypt below the Hall . . . , ,
Monuments of great Men in Guildhall .
Uses to which Guildhall is put . . ,
Corporation Banquets .....
Feast at Guildhall in 1814 . . . .
Banquet attended by Charles I. at Guildhall in 1641
Attempts of Charles I. to soften the harshness of
the City politics ......
Annual Feast in Guildhall on Lord Mayor's Day
Election of the Lord Mayor ....
The Mayoralty of London an arduous and re-
sponsible position . .
Duties of the Lord Mayor of London
Overwhelming amount of business transacted by
the Lord Mayor ....,,
History of the Lord Mayors of London four or
live Centuiies back .....
Interference of Royalty in the earlier Elections of
the Lord Mayors • » . . ,
Chaucer, an Exile in the cause of Corporate
Freedom •...,,,
The liberties of tlie City threatened with utter
destruction by Richard II. ....
Open Hostility shown by Richard IT. towards the
Citizens ....
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Struggle between Richard II. and the Citizens for
the right of electing the Mayor . . ,90
Motives that actuated Chaucer to engage in the
struggle between Richard II. and the popular
party in the City . • . • ,90
Defeat of the Citizens by Richard II. • ,91
Proceedings against the principal Leaders of the
defeated Party . . . • • .91
Flight of Chaucer to Zealand . . • .91
Chaucer's return to London in 1386 . .91
Committal of Chaucer to the Tower • ,91
Liberation of Chaucer in 1389 . . .91
The Court of Aldermen . . . . .91
Pligh rank and importance of Aldermen in former
times ....... 92
The Wards of London the heritable property of
the Aldermen of former times . • .92
Present constitution of the Corporation of London 92
The Council Chamber of Guildhall . . ,92
Functions of the Common Council , . ,92
The Folkmote 93
The Livery and Freemen of the City . . 93
Analogy between the National and Civic Parlia-
ment ...,,,, 93
Works of Art in Guildhall . . . ,94
The Old Court of King's Bench , , ,94
The Court of Hustings . , . , . 94
The Lord Mayor's Court . , , ,94
The Sheriff's Court • , . • .94
The Chamberlain's OfHce . . . .94
Productions of Mr. Thomas Tomkins in the
Chamberlain's Oi^ce . . . , .94
Duties of the Chamberlain . , . .94
The Waiting or Reading Room . . ,95
Household and Expenditure of the Lord Mayor 95
Erection of the Mansion House in 1753 . . 95
The Justice Room at the Mansion House . , 95
The Egyptian Hall 95
Most important event of which the Annals of the
Mansion House can yet boast . , ,96
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
16. Council Chamber, Guildhall
17. The Crypt, Guildhall
18. Interior of Guildhall •
19. The Mansion House, 1771
IX
Dosigncis.
Engravers.
Taok
An E LAY
Jackson
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CVII.— THE EXCISE OFFICE.
The Officer of Excise . * • • •
Tlie Board of Stamps and Taxes . . •
One-half of the Customs' Duty of the United
Kingdom collected in the Port of London
Nature and Operations of the Excise •
History of the Excise System . •
Establishment of Excise Duties in England ♦
Attempt to introduce Excise Duties in 1626
Determination of the Parliament in IGll not to
levy Excise Duties . • . . .
Ordinance issued in 1643 for the levying of Mo-
neys for the Maintenance of the Forces raised
by Parliament ...••.
Establishment of the Office of Excise . •
Appointment of the Commissioners of Excise •
Riots in London created by the Excise Duty •
Declaration of Parliament made in 1646 . •
Endeavour of the Royalists to show that the Ex-
cise Avas a Scheme of the Republicans . .
Abolition of Excise on all Articles of Consump-
tion after the Restoration «...
The Hereditary and the Temporary Excise
The Temporary Excise granted for Life to
James IL on his Accession ....
Duty on Glass and on Malt first imposed in the
reign of William III. • . . •
Laws for the Protection of the Excise •
Sir Robert Walpole's Scheme for extending the
Excise .......
Committee of the House of Commons appointed
in 1732 for inquiring into the Frauds and
Abuses committed in the Customs . .
Introduction in 1733 of Walpole's plan for the
Correction of the Abuses of the Customs
Frauds committed in the Tobacco Trade
Discovery of the illegal practices of the Custom-
House Officers in'l728 . . . .
The Laws of the Customs thought insufficient
to prevent fraud .....
Proposal of Sir R. Walpole to have Tobacco
subjected to the Laws of the Excise as well as
to those of the Customs ....
Opposition to Sir R. Walpole's scheme for ex-
tending the Excise .....
Deputies from the Provincial Towns sent to Lon-
don to oppose Sir R. Walpole's Measure •
Debate on Sir R. Walpole's Bill .
Meeting of the principal Supporters of Sir R.
Walpole's Bill
Abandonment of his Scheme by Sir R. Walpole
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Public demonstrations of joy at the Defeat of
Sir R. Walpole's Project ....
Rejoicings throughout England on the Receipt
of the Intelligence of the Rejection of lYal-
pole's Bill ......
Rejoicings at Oxford and Cambridge on the De-
feat of Sir R. Walpole ....
Extravagant ideas of Liberty entertained by the
English satirized by Goldsmith's ' Chinese
Philosophei' ......
Andrew Marvell, Blackstone, and Johnson great
vilifiers of the Excise ....
Commissioners of Excise Inquiry , •
The Gin Act of 1736
Fears entertained of an Insurrection of the Po-
pulace in London after the passing of the Gin
x\.Ct .... ...
Struggle against the Operations of the Gin Act
Extensive Evasions of the Law after the passing
of the Gin Act ......
The Gin Act modified in 1742
Excise Duty on Bricks imposed by Pitt in 1784
Pitt's Plan for transferring the greater part of
the Duty on Foreign Wine from the Customs
to the Excise ......
Transfer of the greater part of the Duty on To-
bacco from the Customs to the Excise .
Number of Excise Officers employed in England
in 1797 .......
Gross Excise Revenue for the United Kingdom
in 1841 . . . ,
Number of Traders surveyed periodically by
Excise Officers in 1835 ....
Duty on Spirits in the London Collection .
Administrative Improvements in the Excise •
Officers employed in the Collection and Manage-
ment of the Excise Revenue . .
Considerable reductions made in the Excise
Office in the first twenty years after the Peace
The out-door business of the Excise Office in
London conducted by twelve general surveyors
The Collector . . , , , .
The Supervisor ......
The Surveying- General Examiner . . ,
The Excise Oflice previous to 1768, formerly the
Mansion of Sir J. Frederick . •
Gresham College pulled down in 1768 . .
Erection of the present Excise Office on the site
of Gresham College .....
Arrangements of the interior of the Excise OfEce
ILLUSTRATIONS.
20. Excise Office, Broad Street
21. Hall of Excise Office
22. Excise Office Exchange •
Designers.
SriEPHEKD
Eh gravers.
Sears
Nugent
Wragg
Page
104
104
104
105
105
105
105
106
105
107
107
107
107
108
108
103
108
108
109
109
110
110
110
110
111
111
111
111
112
97
109
112
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CVIII.— THE COMPANIES OF LONDON.
The once mighty Fellowships of Lonaon
Companies of London now in their Decline .
The Musicians ,.••••
The Masons ,..•••
The Pin- Makers
The Festival of Corpus Christi
The Skinners
Banquet in the Hall of the Skinners' Company
on the day of Corpus Christi
Election of the Master and Wardens of the
Skinners' Company , . . • •
Nature of the business transacted by the Master
and Wardens ,..•••
Preventing or arranging Disputes among the
Members an important branch of the Duties
of the Oflicers of the London Companies
Apprentices directly under the Supervision and
Control of the Master and Wardens
Interference of the Companies in the matter of
the Dress of the Apprentices
Anxiety of Queen Elizabeth to restrain the love
of Splendour amongst her Subjects
The Trade Searches . , • • •
Petition presented to the Court of Aldermen by
the Wax Chandlers' Company in the reign of
Edward IIL . • • • •
Chief places where tbe Trade Searches had ge-
nerally to be pursued ....
Localities of the different London Trades
Jurisdiction of the Mayor and Aldermen over
the Companies .....
Duties arising from the Connexion between the
Companies and the Civic Corporation
Monopoly enjoyed by the Companies • .
Richard Whittington . • . • .
System of making presents to the INIayor .
Most important labours undertaken by the
Companies and the City ....
Supply of Corn and Coal in times of scarcity to
the poorer Citizens by the London Compa-
nies . . . . . . •
Arrangement respecting Corn concluded be-
tween the City and the Companies in 151S .
Letter from the Duke of Lennox in 1622 to the
Master and Wardens of the Company of Gro-
cers • • • • . • •
Page
113
114
114
114
114.
114
114
115
115
116
116
117
117
117
117
118
118
118
118
119
119
119
120
120
120
121
121
Connexion of the Companies with the Govern-
ment ...••••
Application for Money from Queen Elizabeth to
the Ironmongers , . . • •
Establishment of the first Lottery in 1567
Lottery for Armour established in 1585 . •
Patents, a system of direct infringement upon
the chief Powers and Rights of the Companies
Patent obtained by Edward Darcy to search and
seal all the Leather through England .
System of Patents at its highest point in the
reign of James I. • • . • •
Liberality shown by the London Companies on
any great public occasion ....
The Army of the London Companies reviewed
by Queen Elizabeth in 1572
Origin and Rise of the London Companies
Charter received by the Weavers of London in
the reign of Henry II. ... .
Origin of the Knighten Guild
Semi-religious Character of the London Com-
panies .......
Incorporation of the Guilds in the reign of Ed-
ward III. ......
Edward IIL enrolled a Member of the Mer-
chant Tailors' Company ....
Struggles for Precedence between the London
^ Companies ......
Endeavour of Charles II. to destroy the Inde-
pendence of the London Companies
The Companies of London divided into three
classes .......
The Government of the Companies intrusted to
Courts of Assistants • . . . .
Charities of the London Companies .
Annual Payments of the Goldsmiths' Company
to their Poor ......
The chartered Festivals of the London Com-
panies .......
Halls of the London Companies . . .
The Fishmongers' Hall . . . .
Merchant Tailors' Hall . . • .
Drapers' Hall . . , . . .
Mercers' Hall ......
Clockmakers' Hall . . . . .
The Painter Stainers' Hall . . . ,
ILLUSTRATIONS.
23. Interior of Merchant Tailors' Hall, Threadneedle Street
24. Front of Mercers' Hail, Cheapside ....
25. Leather-sellers' Hall, Bishopsgate Street . . .
26. Arms of the Weavers' Company ....
27. Fishmongers' Hall, London Bridge . • • •
Designers.
Anelav
Fairiiolt
An E LAY
Shepherd
Engravers.
Jackson
Jackson
Sears
Pack
121
122
122
122
122
122
123
123
124
124
124
124
125
125
125
125
126
126
126
127
127
127
127
128
128
128
128
128
128
113
119
123
124
128
CIX.— COVENT GARDEN.
Origin of Covcnt Garden ....
Covent Garden in 1560 ....
Changes in the Metropolis caused by the Disso-
lution of the Monasteries ....
Long Acre granted by Edward YI. to the Earl
of Bedford in 1552 .....
Southampton House built by the Earl of Bed-
ford in 1552 ......
Magnificent Improvements commenced by the
Earl of Bedford in the early part of the reign
of Charles 1. . . • . . .
129
129
130
130
130
131
Proclamation issued by Queen Elizabeth in 1580
respecting the Erection of Houses in London 131
Buildings commenced by Inigo Jones at Lin-
coln's Inn Fields . . . . .131
Inigo JoneSj the true Founder of the modern
domestic Architecture of the Metropolis . 131
Squares and Streets erected in London in the
reigns of William and Anne . . . 132
Erection of the Chapel of St. Martin's . . 132
Covent Garden formed into a Parish in 1645 . 133
Alterations and Repairs of Covent Garden Church 132
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
xl
i
Damage done to Covent Garden Church by Fire
in 1795
Eminent Men buried within the Walls or in the
Churchyard of St. Paul's, Covent Garden .
Interesting Associations of Covent Garden not
confined to the Church • • . •
Dryden waylaid and beaten in Rose Alley, Co-
vent Garden ••••..
Duel between Sir H. Bellasses and Tom Por-
ter • •••••••
Death of Bellasses . . • . •
Powell's Theatre, Covent Garden . • •
The Beefsteak Club . . • . •
Lord Peterborough and Rich . . ,
Distinguished Persons who have been Members
of the Beefsteak Club . • • •
Migrations of the Beefsteak Club . • .
Aspect of Covent Garden in the beginning of
the last century . . . • •
Proposals made in 1654 for establishing a Herb-
market in Clement's Inn Fields •
Origin of Covent Garden Market • •
The Honey Lane Market ....
Act passed in 1 824 for the establishment of Far-
ringdon Market . . • • .
Company incorporated in 1830 for re-establish-
ing Hungerford Market • • • . ^
Page
133
133
133
134
134
134
134
135
135
135
136
136
136
136
137
137
137
Act passed for the establishment of Portman
Market .......
Covent Garden Market seventy years ago
Act obtained by the Duke of Bedford in 1827
for rebuilding Covent Garden Market .
Present Arrangements of Covent Garden Market
Farringdon Market • . . . .
Provincial Markets • . . . .
Extensive System of Co-operation involved in
the Supply of Fruit and Vegetables to the Po-
pulation of London . . . • ,
Market-days at Covent Garden . . ,
Houses of Refreshment around Covent Garden
The Vegetable and Fruit Market at Covent
Garden .......
The Business of the Flower Market at Covent
Garden .••....
Covent Garden the Londoners' Flower-garden .
The Costermongers • . . . .
The Borough Market .....
Spitalfields the largest Potato Market in the^Me-
tropolis .......
Potato-salesmen in London ....
Consumption of Potatoes in the Metropolis •
London chiefly supplied with Potatoes from
Essex and Kent .....
Supply of Potatoes to London by Water * .
ILLUSTRATIONS.
28. Covent Garden Market . . • .
29. House built by Inigo Jones, in Great Queen Street
30. Group of Market People • • . • <
Designers.
Shepherd
Engravers.
Sears
Sly
Sears
Page
137
137
137
138
138
139
139
140
;uo
141
141
142
142
143
143
143
144
144
144
129
131
141
CX.~-THE ADMIRALTY AND THE TRINITY HOUSE.
Architecture of the Admiralty . . .
The Commissioners of the Admiralty . •
The Admiralty Telegraph ....
Interior of the Admiralty ....
Associations connected with the Admiralty .
The Admiralty one of the most interesting Lo-
calities in London .....
Duties of the ' Amiral de la Mer du Roi d'Angle-
terre' in 1297
Attention paid to Naval Affairs by Heni-y VII.
The Admiralty and the Navy Office instituted
by Henry VIII. . . • • .
Establishment of the Trinity House and the
Dock-yards in the Reign of Henry VIII. .
Ships of the Time of Henry VIII. . . .
Navy of the Time of Queen Elizabeth
Progress of Naval Architecture in the Reign of
Elizabeth ......
Phineas Pett the first scientific Ship-builder
Advance in Naval Matters during the Reign of
James 1. . . . • . .
Consequences of the Growth of the Spirit of
Maritime Enterprise in England in the Time
of Elizabeth ......
Voyages of Discovery fitted out in the Reign of
Elizabeth ......
Burst of National Energy in the Reign of Eli-
zabeth .......
Michael Lok •*....
Frobisher's Voyage .....
Englishmen a Nation of Mariners in the Age
of Elizabeth ......
Controversy between Charles I. and John
Hampden ••.•.•
145
145
146
146
147
147
147
148
148
148
148
148
148
149
149
149
149
149
149
150
150
150
The Navy under Charles I. . . . .150
The Navigation Laws originated by Cromwell . 1 50
The Navy after the Restoration . . .150
Improvements in the Navy in the Reign of
James II. ...... 151
The sailing and fighting Men of the Navy not
one Class under the Restoration • . . 151
The Seamen of the Time of the Commonwealth
and the Restoration . . . . .151
The Management of the Navy permanently put
into Commission in 1G88 . • . .151
The Affairs of the Navy managed by a Com-
mittee of Parliament during the Common-
wealth . . . . . • .151
The Duke of York Lord High Admiral during
the greater Part of the Reign of Chai4es II. . 152
The House of Judge JefFeries converted to the
Use of the Commissioners of the Admiralty . 152
Removal of the Admiralty to Wallingford House 152
The present Admiralty erected on the Site of
Wallingford House in the Reign of George II. 152
Screen erected by Adam before the Admiralty in
the Reign of George III. .... 152
Improvements made in the Navy since the Revo-
lution . . . . . . .152
An Hydrographer permanently annexed to the
Admiralty Board in 1795 .... 153
Important Improvements made of late Years in
the Navy . • • . . • .153
Vessels composing the British Navy at present • 153
The Peace-establishment of the Navy . .153
Peculiar Character attributed to the British Tar 153
Lord Anson . , . . . .154
The Naval College , , , . . 155
xn
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
The Lower School at Greenwich .
The lIydro^'raphcr's Office . . . •
DifFercncc between tlie Sailors of Harryat and
tliosc of Smollett and his Contemporaries
branches of the Navy Office at Somerset House
Aarious Branches of the Management of tlie Navy
The Characteristics of British Government
The Trinity House . . . • •
liccords of the Trinity House destroyed by Fire
early in the eighteenth Century . . •
The Holy Trinity of Deptford Strand
Jurisdiction of the Trinity House . . •
Charter granted to the Trinity House by James II.
Corporation of the Trinity House . •
The Board of the Trinity House
The Committee of Wardens . . . •
Lighting, Beaconing, and Buoying of the Coasts,
Branches of Maritime Police • •
Paoe
155
155
155
155
155
156
156
156
156
156
157
157
157
157
157
Page
The Merchant Service . . • • .158
A valuable Branch of the Merchant , Service
formed by the East India Trade , , • 158
High Character attained by the Mercantile Ma-
rine of England ..... 158
Efficiency of the English Marine . . .158
The Hydrographer's Office a connecting Link
between the Admiralty Board and the Trinity
Board . . • . • . . 158
Habitations of the Naval Rulers of England in
ancient Days ...... 159
The Navy Office in Crutched Friars . .159
Pursuit of Mr. Pepys by a Bum-Bailiff . , 159
The Old Trinity House, in Water Lane • . 159
Mr. Pepys of real Service to the Navy . • 159
The Edifices of London, with few Exceptions,
essentially modern . • • • • 160
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Designers.
31. The Admiralty Shepherd
32. The Admiralty as it appeared before Adam's Screen was
built B. Sly
33. Old Trinity House, from an Anonymous Print in the Pen-
nant Collection ,«.....
Engravers.
Sears
•
• 145
HOLLOWAY
*
• 152
Nugent
•
, 160
CXI.— THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
No. I. — Before the Fiiie.
Tablet in the Church of St. Peter, Cornhill \ 161
The Church of St. Peter supposed to have been
founded by Lucius, the first Christian King of
England . . . . . . .161
Information given by Stow regarding St. Peter's,
Cornhill ....... 162
Churches in London in the twelfth Century
enumerated by Fitz-Stephen . . .162
Churches in and about London in the Time of
Stow 162
Eighty-nine of the Metropolitan Churches de-
stroyed by the Great Fire .... 162
Buildings referred to by Stow almost identical
with the Buildings mentioned by Fitz-Ste-
piien 163
Conventual Buildings mentioned by Fitz-Ste-
phen 163
St. Martin's-le-Grand, founded in 700 . • 163
St. Martin's the Alsatia of early Days . .163
Churches of London and the Suburbs before the
Fire 164
Origin of the Names of some of the Metropoli-
tan Churches . . . . . .164
INIany of the Churches of London rich in Memo-
rials of the Dead ..... 165
Inscription on a Tomb in St. Leonard's, Foster
Lane 165
Existing Churches in London spared by the Fire 165
The Dutch Church, Austin Friars . . .166
Persons buried in the Dutch Church, Austin
Friars 166
The Church of Allhallows, Barking . . 166
Image to the Virgin erected by Edward I. in
Allhallows, Barking . . . , .167
Inscriptions and Monuments in AUhalloAvs . 167
The Earl of Surrey and the Bishops Fisher and
I^aud interred in Allhallows . . .167
Allhallows injured by an Explosion of Gunpow-
der in 1619 167
The Majority of the earliest Churches in Lon-
don probably built of Wood • . . 168
ToAver of Allhallows Staining . . . 168
Visit of Queen Elizabeth to the Church of All-
hallows Staining • . . . . 168
Entries in the Parish Books of Allhallows
Staining . . . . . , .168
Festivals at Allhallows Staining . . • 169
Noticeable Signatures in the Parish Books of
Allhallows Staining ..... 169
St. Olave's, Hart Street . . . .170
Interior of St. Andrew Undershaft . . 1 70
Stow's Monument in St. Andrew Undershaft . 170
The original Edifice of St. Katherine Cree,
pulled down about 1107 . . . .170
The Church of St. Kathei'ine Cree rebuilt by
Inigo Jones in 1628 . . . . .170
Distinguished Persons buried in the Church of
St. Katherine Cree . . , . .170
Consecration of St. Katherine Cree by Laud in
1630 170
Description given by Prynne of the Ceremony
of the Consecration ..... 171
The Chui-chyard of St. Katherine Cree a popu-
lar Place for the Exhibition of Dramatic In-
terludes . . . . . . .171
Remnant of St. Michaers Church existing be-
neath a House in Aldgate .... 172
Remarkable Aspect of the Exterior of St. Ple-
len's, Bishopsgate . • • • .172
Interior of St. Helen's ..... 172
Canonization of Helena, the Mother of Con-
stantine the Great . . , . .173
Priory of Benedictine Nuns, founded in 1212
near St. Helen's, Bishopsgate . . . 173
Monument of Sir John Crosby and his Lady in
St. Helen's Church ' 173
Tomb of Sir W. Pickering in St. Helen's . ' 173
Tomb of Sir Thomas Gresham in St. Helen's ♦ 173
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
xui
Tablet to Sir William Bond and his Son .
Complaints made against the Nuns of St. Helen's
by the Dean of St. Paul's in 1439
Monument to Richard Bancroft in St. Helen's
Church • . . • • 4 •
Monument to Sir Julius Csesar in the Chancel of
St. Helen's • • . . • .
St. Giles's Cripplegate partially burnt in the
Sixteenth Century .....
Eminent Persons buried in the Church of St.
Giles's Cripplegate • . • . *
Paoe
173
173
174
174
174
174
Interesting Recollections of St. Giles's
Marriage of Oliver Cromwell and Elizabeth
Bouchier in St. Giles's Cripplegate . ,
Archbishops interred in Lambeth Church
Monument to the Tradescants in the Church-
yard of Lambeth Church . . , .
St. Margaret's, Westminster ....
Remarkable Persons buried in St. Margaret's,
Wtfstminster ......
The painted eastern Window of St. Margaret's ,
Page
174
174
174
175
175
17.5
175
ILLUSTRATIONS.
34. Exterior of the Dutch Church, Austin Friars , •
35. Procession of the Wooden Ass on Palm Sunday •
3G, Interior of St. Helen's . . • • .
37. East Window of St. Margaret's Church, Westminster
Designers.
Engravers
Brown
Jackson
Buss
Sly
Brown
Jackson
CXII.— THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
No. n. — Wren's Churches.
Position of the Citizens of London after the
Great Fire ••....
Erection of Places of Worship after the Fire •
Earliest Movement towards the rebuilding of
AUhallows, Lombard Street •
Various Means of raising the Funds for rebuild-
ing of AUhallows • . . • •
Pecuniary Difficulties experienced by Wren
during the Progress of the rebuilding of the
Churches of London after the Fire • •
The Design of the London Churches materially
affected by the pecuniary Difficulties encoun-
tered by Wren ......
Funds for rebuilding St. Mary Aldermarj* be-
queathed by Mr. Rogers ....
Presents given to Wren by the Churchwardens
of St. Clement's East Cheap and St. Mary Al-
dermanbury ......
Wren the Inventor of a Style of Ecclesiastical
Architecture adapted to the Wants of a Pro-
testant Community . . • • .
Exteriors of Wren's Churches •
Characteristics of the Interiors of Wren's
Churches ......
Donation to the Old Church of Mary Alder-
mary by the Father of Chaucer .
Churches belonging to the Miscellaneous Class
of Wren's Buildings ....
The Church of St. Lawrence, Jewry . •
Residence of the Jews in the Old Jewry . .
The Jews expelled from England by EdAvard I.
Stained Glass in the Church of St. Edward the
King •••....
Monument of Anthony Munday in the Church
of St. Stephen, Coleman Street . . •
Inscription on the Monument to Thomas Tusser
in St. Mildred's, Poultry ....
Death of Inigo Jones in 1651 . . .
Architecture of the Church of AUhallows the
Great .......
The Name of Whittington inseparably associ-
ated with the Church of St. Michael's, Pater-
noster Row ......
History of Whittington's Monument . .
Hilton's Picture of Mary Magdalene in the mo-
dern Church of St. Michael's
The Head of James IV. of Scotland bm-ied in
St. Michael's, Wood Street ....
Churches in London of the Basilica} Class ^
177
178
178
179
179
179
179
180
180
180
180
180
181
181
181
181
181
182
182
182
182
182
182
182
182
1 83
Miles Coverdale Rector of St. Magnus till 1566
The Church of St. Bartholomew . • .
Eminent Men interred in Bride Church .
Monument to Bishop Newton in Bow Church .
Associations connected with Bow Church .
Accident to Queen Philippa at Bow Church .
Murder of Lawrence Ducket in the Tower of
BoAV Church ......
Taillage levied upon the City of London during
the Absence of Richard I. in the Holy Land .
The corrupt Practices of the Managers of the
Tax denounced by William Fitz-Osbert
Conspiracy in the Reign of Richard I., headed
by William Fitz-Osbert ....
The Tower of Bow Church barricaded and
mainta'ned for three days by William Fitz-
Osbert .......
Fitz-Osbert and his Followers hung at Smith-
field .......
Pilgrimages performed to the Place of Fitz-Os-
bert's Death ......
Interior of St. Andrew's, Holbom . .
Record of the Baptism of the Poet Savage in the
Parish Register of St. Andrew's . . .
Few literary Lives more truly melancholy than
that of Savage ......
Friendship of Johnson and Savage . •
Death of Savage in 1743 . • • .
Miseries and Death of Chatterton . . .
Entry of the Burial of Chatterton in the Parish
Register of St. Andrew's ....
Combination of the Italian and Gothic Styles
in the Church of St. Michael's, Cornhill .
Doubts of Wren as to the Stability of the Tower
of St. Dunstan's in the East . . .
Quarrel in St. Dunstan's Church between the
Ladies of Lord Strange and Sir John Trussel
in the Year 1417
Penance inflicted upon Lord and Lady Strange
Features of the Interior of St. James's, West-
minster • •.....
The Domed Class of Wren's Churches
Characteristics of the Architecture of St. Ste-
phen's, Walbrook .....
The Church of St. Benet Fink . . .
Flocking of the Citizens of London to St. An-
thony's to hear the Sermons of Alexander
Henderson just before the Outbreak of the
Civil War • • • . > «
161
169
172
176
183
183
183
184
184
184
184
184
184
185
185
185
185
186
1£6
186
187
187
187
187
187
187
188
188
188
189
189
189
189
k
XIV
ANALYTIC A.L TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Page
Memorial to Sir T. Crisp in the Church of St.
Mildred, Bread Street . . • •
Exertions of Sir Nicholas Crisp in the Cause ot
Charles II •
Corinthian Altar Piece in the Church of St.
Mary Abchurch , . . • •
190
190
191
Magnificence of the former Church of St. Mary-
at-Hill ,...••.
Costs of the Erection of Wren's Churches
Cost of the Erection of St. Stephen's, Wal-
brook •••••••
ILLUSTRATIONS.
8. Interior of St. James's, Westminster
39. Bow Church, Chcapside, 1750
40. Interior of St. Stephen's, Walbrook
Designers. Engravers.
Brown Jackson
Fairholt Sly
W. B .Clarke Jackson
Paoe
191
191
192
177
186
192
CXIII.— THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
No. ni. — Modern Churches.
Gibhs and Hawksmoor, the most eminent Suc-
cessors of Wren . . . • •
Great Reputation of Palladio in Italy
Introduction of the Italian-Roman Style of Ar-
chitecture into England by Inigo Jones *
Act passed in the 10th Year of the lieign of
Queen Anne for building fifty Churches in
London .....••
Birth and Education of James Gibbs
Employment obtained by Gibbs from the
Church Commissioners ....
St. Mary's-in-the-Strand the first of Gibbs's Ec-
clesiastical Structures ....
St. Martin's-in-the-Fieldsthe Building on which
Gibbs's Fame chiefly rests . . .
Interior of St. Martin's .....
Notorious Persons buried in the Precincts of St.
Martin's .......
St. Mary Woolnoth, the first Church built by
Hawksmoor ......
The Church of St. Anne, Limehouse . •
St. George's Church, the Product of the united
Genius of Gibbs and HaAvksmoor . .
St. George's, Bloomsbury Square . . .
St. George's, Hanover Square, completed in
1724
St. Luke's, Old Street, erected by James in 1732
St. John's Church, Westminstei', erected by
Archer in 1728
St. Giles's-in-the-Fields attributed to Hawks-
moor . ......
St. Giles's ascribed by Walpole to Flitcroft
The Resurrection Gate at the Entrance of the
Churchyard of St. Giles ....
Monument to Sir Roger L'Estrange in the Old
Church of St. Giles .....
The Remains of Andrew Marvell interred in St.
Giles •.•...,
Chapman the Poet buried in St. Giles's .
Comparison between Cowper's and Chapman's
Translation of Homer ....
Burial of Flaxman in St. Giles's in 1826 . .
Interesting circumstance connected with the
Death of Flaxman .....
The ground on which St. Giles's stands formerly
occupied by a Hospital • . • .
193
194
194
194
194
195
195
195
196
196
196
197
197
198
198
198
198
199
199
199
199
199
199
199
200
2C0
200
Sir Peter Paul Pindar buried in the Church of
St. Botolph, Bishopsgate Street .
Munificence of Sir Peter Paul Pindar
Inscription on the Tomb of a Persian Merchan
in the Churchyard of St. Botolph
Bishop Bonner interred in the Churchyard of St
George in the Borough . . .
Anecdote of Bonner on his Committal to Prison
The Porch of St. Alphage
Record in the Parish Register of St. Alphage of
the persons touched by Charles II. for the
eyil .....».,
Canterbury Defended by Elphege, Archbishop
of Canterbui7 in 1011 . . . .
Murder of Elphege by the Danes, in 1012 •
The Church of St. Alphage Erected to the Me-
mory of Elphege, on the place of his Death .
Pause in the Erection of Churches in London
during the reign of George III. . . ,
The Church of St. Pancras, New Road, an
avowed Imitation of the Temple of Erech-
theion, at Athens .....
Porches of St. Pancras imitated from the Pan-
drosium attached to the Erechtheion . .
The Steeple of St. Pancras imitated from the
Temple of the Winds, at Athens . . •
Interior of St. Pancras .....
Chapel of St. Mark, North Audley Street
Trinity Chapel, Poplar .....
New Church at Stepney, erected by Mr. Walters
about 1822
St. Luke's, Chelsea • • • • .
All Souls, Laiighara Place ....
St. Katherine's, Regent's Park . . ,
Benefactresses to the Convent of St. Katherine.
Distinguished Persons buried in the Old Church
of St. Katherine's . . . , ,
Disgraceful circumstance connected with the
pulling down of the Old Church of St. Ka-
therine ...,,,.
Clock of St. Dunstan*s in the West
Booksellers' Shops in the Churchyard of St.
Dunstan's ......
St. Dunstan's rebuilt by Mr. Shaw about
1833 .
Christ Church, Westminster . . , ,
ILLUSTRATIONS.
41. St. Mark's, Southwark ....
42. S. Martin's Church
43. Interior of St. Mary Woolnoth, Lombard Street
44. Female Caryatid Figure in the British Museum
45. Trinity Chapel, Poplar ....
46. St. Peter's Church, Banksidc
47. Christ Church, Westminster . , ,
Designers.
B. Sly
Paynter
B. Sly*
200
201
201
201
201
201
201
202
202
202
202
203
203
203
204
205
205
206
206
206
206
206
207
207
207
207
20 S
208
Engravers.
Welch .
193
jj . <
195
Jackson
197
•
201
Wkagg .
205
Holloway ,
207
MuilDON ,
, 208
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
XT
CXIV.— THE HORSE GUARDS.
Taqe
The Horse Guards, built about the middle of
the Eighteenth Century .... 209
Kent, the Architect of the Horse Guards • 209
The Architectural Pretensions of the Horse
Guards 209
Ceremony of Changing Guard at the Horse
Guards .•••... 210
Movements of the Queen's Guard of the House-
hold Brigade of Cavalry, regulated nominally
by the Gold Stick in Waiting . . .210
Barracks in London where the Foot Guards are
stationed . • . . . . ,210
The Guards 211
The Blues 211
A Soldier's not an Idle Life . . . .211
Resources of an Officer in London . . .211
The Guards' Club 212
The Guards' Dinners at St. James's • .. 212
The Tower or Fort Major . . . .212
The Bank Piquet 212
The Bank Dinners . • . . ,212
The Duke of York's Dinners at the Horse
Guards ....... 213
Character of the Duke of York . . • 213
Debt of gratitude owing by England to the Duke
of York 214
The British Soldier of the present day . • 214
The Non-commissioned Officer . . . 214
Qualities required to enable a man to fill a Sub-
ordinate Situation with perfect efficiency . 214
High Spirit and Honourable Ambition of the
British Serjeant illustrated by Steele in the
'Tatler' 214
The Guards at "Waterloo . • • • 215
Want of Centralised Authority in the manage-
ment of the Army . . • • • 215
The Guards of Charles II. and James II. • 215
The Army of modern growth when compared
with the Navy 216
The Army of England made after foreign models 216
The Army of England equal, if not superior, to
any in Europe . . . • . .216
The Commander-in-Chief .... 216
The Master-General of the Ordnance . • 216
Departments of Government connected with the
Administration of Military Affairs . . 216
All power and control over the Army vested in
the Crown •..••• 217
Page
Functions of the Secretary of State • . 217
The Secretary of State for the War Department
and Colonies ••.... 217
Financial Arrangements of the Army entrusted
to the Secretary at AVar • . , .217
Duties of the Secretary at War . . , 217
The Commander-in-Chief • • . . 218
Duties of the Adjutant-General • . . 218
Principal Duties of the Quarter-Master-Ge-
neral ....... 218
Board of Topography attached ^to the Office of
Quarter-Master-General .... 218
The Ordnance Office 218
Duties of the Master-General of the Ordnance . 219
The Deputy-Adjutant-General of Artillery . 219
The Royal Artillery Corps .... 219
The Worshipful Artillery Company of the City
of London ...... 219
Corps subject to the Ordnance . . .219
Origin of the present Organisation of the Royal
Engineers ...... 219
The Artillery Regiment .... 220
The proceedings of the Board of Ordnance sub-
ject to the control of the Master-General . 220
Duties of the Board Officers of the Ordnance • 220
Business of the Board of Ordnance . • . 220
The Commissariat Establishment . . , 221
The Commissariat a peculiar and important
service ....... 221
Part of the duties of the Commissariat department
thrown upon the Ordnance . . . 221
Abolition of the Comptrollers of Army Accounts 221
The Commissariat and Audit Board both
branches of the Treasury . . . 221
Proceedings of the Commissioners of Chelsea
Hospital 222
The Secretary at War and the Commander-in-
Chief the heart of the Military Organisation of
Great Britain ...... 222
Answers of Sir Augustus Fraser to the questions
of the Commissioners on the Civil Administra-
tion of the Army in 1833 . . . .222
The Horse Guards the centre of vitality of an
Army ...•••. 222
Military discipline ..... 223
Superiority of an organised Army over the En-
thusiasm of Individuals or Nations • - 223
ILLUSTRATIONS.
48. Principal front of the Horse Guards
49. Park front of the Horse Guards
Designers.
Sargent
Engravers.
Welch
209
224
CXV.— THE OLD LONDON BOOKSELLERS.
The Sale of Books probably not a regular Trade
till after the invention of Printing . , 225
Bibles and other Books sold at Fairs in many of
the principal Cities of the Continent . . 225
The Religious Treatises of Wycliffe the first
Books sold to any extent in London . . 226
No Book Shops in London till after the Four-
teenth Century ..... 226
Printing Press set up by William Caxton in 1474 226
Stationers' Company Incorporated in 1557 . 226
Influence of the Bookseller on Literature • 226
Bookselling in London till the middle of the
Seventeenth Century .....
Paternoster Row before the Fire of London •
Booksellers' Shops principally in St. Paul's
Churchyard before and at the time of the Great
Fire ..••...
Pepys's Yisits to the Booksellers' Shops in St.
Paul's Churchyard .....
Destruction of Books by the Great Fire . .
Rise in the Price of Books after the Fire
Booksellers' Shops near Westminster Hall •
226
227
227
227
227
228
228
XVI
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Tcpys's incfTectual cnaeavours to comprehend
the uit of Iludibras . ' ^ \, ' , *
Return of the Booksellers to St. Paul's Church-
yard on the re-building of the City after the
Fire •••••*%
Scott the first London Bookseller in the time of
Tcprs ,..••••
Scott Jaid to have been, in his time, the greatest
Librarian in Eui-ope . . • • •
Little Britain and Duck Lane mainly inhabited
by Booksellers in the end of the Seventeenth
and beginning of the Eighteenth Century .
Paternoster Row began to be occupied by Book-
sellers about the middle of the Eighteenth
Century . . • • • • •
Benjamin Franklin and James Ralph in Little
Britain ,..••••
« Life and Errors' of John Dunton .
Birth and Education of John Dunton
A Bookseller's Shop established by Dunton in
1G85 • . • • • • •
Picture given by Dunton of Literature and its
followers in London , . . • •
Sermons and other Religious disquisitions the
most saleable of all Publications in the time
of Dunton . . • • • •
Marriage of Dunton with Elizabeth Annesley .
Dunton's Journey to New England * •
Dunton's rambling propensities . .
Death of Dunton's Wife in 1697 .
Marriage of Dunton with Sarah Nicholas •
Dunton's latter years passed in quiet and ob-
scurity ,..•.••
Death of Dunton in 1721 . • • •
Page
228
229
229
229
230
230
230
231
231
231
231
232
232
232
232
233
233
233
233
Page
Dunton's ' Athenian Mercury ' . • * 233.
Comparison between Dunton and Defoe . . 234
Estimation in which Booksellers were held about
the end of the Seventeenth Century . . 234
Review by Dunton of his Literary Contempora-
ries in his ' Life and Errors' . . . 234
Extent and activity of the publishing business in
London at the end of the Seventeenth Century 234
Mr. Richard Chiswell ..... 235
Thomas Guy, the Founder of Guy's Hospital . 235
Superior acquirements of the Booksellers of the
time of Dunton ...... 235
Distinguished Booksellers noticed by Dunton , 236
Mr. George Sawbridge, according to Dunton, the
greatest Bookseller that had been in England
for many years ......
Jacob Tonson and Bernard Lintott immortalized
by the association of their names with the
writings and wranglings of Dryden and Pope
Mr. Ballard the last survivor of the Booksellers
of Little Britain .....
Tliomas Osborne celebrated as the publisher of
the Harleian Miscellany ....
Castigation bestowed on Edmund Curll in Pope's
' Dunciad '..«.,.
The early part of the Eighteenth Century still
an age of pamphleteering ....
First Number of the ' Gentleman's Magazine '
brought out by Cave in 1731
Revolution in the Commercial system of English
Literature brought about by James Lackington
Lackington's ' Memoirs of the first Forty -five
Years of his Life '.•••.
50. John Dunton
51. Thomas Guy
52. Jacob Tonson
53. Edward Cave
54. James Lackington
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Designers.
FUSSELL
Engravers.
Jackson
CXYI.—EXETER HALL.
Individual Charityprobablyw^eakened by the ge-
neral Philanthropy of modern times . . 241
Educational Charities ..... 242
Assemblage of Charity Children at St. Paul's . 242
Exeter Hall the recognised Temple of modern
Philanthropy ••.... 242
Effects of the Supremacy of the Puritans . . 243
Societies instituted in 1692 for the Reformation
of Manners ...... 243
Establishment of the Society for Promoting
Christian Knowledge in 1G88 . . . 243
Incorporation in 1701 of the Society for the Pro-
pagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts . 243
Its first elforts for the Conversion of tlie Heathen
made amongst the American Indians . . 243
Danish Foreign Mission commenced under Fre-
derick IV. in 1705 243
The reigns of George I. and George II. charac-
terised by an extraordinary degree of apathy
in the Church ...... 243
The Church awakened to a sense of its duties by
the zeal and energy of AVcsley and White field 213
Association formed by Wilberforce in 1787 to
resist the Spread of open Immorality . . 214
Royal Proclamation against Vice issued in 1787 214
Hannah More's 'Thoughts on the Manners of
the Great,' published in 1788 . , , 244
Publication of Hannah Morc's Religious Tracts
in 1796
TV^ilberforce's 'Practical Christianity,' published
in 1797 .......
Endeavours of Wilberforce to promote the Ob-
servance of the Sabbath ....
Bill brought into Parliament in 1799 for the
Suppression of Sunday Newspapers .
Endeavour of the Bishop of London to put dowai
Sunday Concerts and Sunday Club-meetings
Sunday Card-parties and Sunday Concerts now
\inheard of amongst the higher classes
Abolition of the Slave Trade in 1807
Act jiassed in 1833 for emancipating every Slave
in the British Dominions ....
The Consumption of West India Produce ab-
stained from by the Friends of the Slave
Trade Abolition .....
Associations formed to stop the Consumption of
West India Produce ....
Obstacles encountered by the Friends of Anti-
Slavery ..,,,..
Motion for the Reform of the Criminal Laws
brought forward by Sir Samuel Rorailly in
1808
Bill to repeal the Shoplifting Act throAvn out in
the Lords in 1813 • . .
237
237
238
238
239
239
239
210
240
225
235
238
240
214
244
241
245
245
245
245
246
24 G
243
246
246
247
247
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
xvii
Page
Death of Sir Samuel Romilly in 1818 . . 217
Plan set on foot by Government for promoting
the Emigration of the Natives of Africa to the
British Colonies in the West . . . 248
Extract from Mr. Carlyle's 'Past and Present' 248
AVild Beasts at Exeter 'Change . . . 219
Exeter Hall completed in 1S31 • • . 249
Interior of Exeter Hall • . , .249
Aspect of Exeter Hall on the occasion of a Puh-
;" lie Meeting ...... 249
Anniversary Meetings held at Exeter Hall • 250
Meeting held at Exeter Hall in June, 1813, for
the purpose of promoting Christian Union
among the different Religious Bodies of Eng-
land ....... 250
Enthusiasm generally prevailing at the Meetings
in Exeter Hall ..... 251
Ilaydon's Picture of the Meeting of Delegates
for the Abolition of Slavery throughout the
World, held in June, 1840 . . .251
Address of Thomas Clarkson at the Anti-Slavery
Meeting in June, 1840 . . , .251
Annual JNIeeting of the British and Foreign Anti-
Slavery Society ..... 252
Meeting in Exeter Hall of the Society for the
Extinction of the Slave Trade . • . 252
Page
Speakers at the May Meetings in Exeter Hall 252
Circumscribed Fame of the Speakers and Leaders
at Exeter Hall ..... 252
Meeting of the Wesleyan Missionary Society at
Exeter Hall in May, 1 843 . . . 253
Meeting of the Church Missionary Society • 253
Meeting of the Committee of the British and
Foreign Bible Society to complete the Orga-
nization of the New Institution . . . 253
First Meeting of the Bible Society held in May,
1804 *. 2')3
The Baptist Missionary Society . . , 254
Income and Expenditure of the London Mis-
sionary Society ..... 254
The Church Pastoral Aid Society . . . 254
Income of the Society for the Propagation of
Christianity amongst the Jews . . . 254
Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge . 254
Religious Tract Society established in 1798 . 254
Summary of the Receipts and Expenditure of
Religious and Benevolent Societies for 1841-2 255
Hanover Square Rooms occasionally used for
the Meetings of Religious Societies . . 25G
Exhibitions at Exeter Hall of Mr. HulJah's Sys-
tem of^Popular Singing . • . • 256
ILLUSTRATIONS.
55. Exeter Hall, from the Strand
56, Interior of Exeter Hall .
Designers.
Shepherd
Engravera.
Quick
Sears
241
256
CXVII.— THE GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY.
The Zoological Gardens one of the most attrac-
tive spots in London . . . .257
Modes of obtaining Admission to the Zoological
Gardens ....... 258
The Carnivora Terrace in the Zoological Gardens 259
The Curassow . . , , . . . 259
The Cinnamon Bears ..... 259
Mode of catching the American Black Bear . 260
The Macaw Cage 2G0
The Coreopsis Goose ..... 2'^0
Swiftness of the Dromedary . . • .201
The Mouflon 261
Strong attachment to Man evinced by the Wolf 261
Ordinary use to which the Cuba Bloodhound is
put by the Spaniards . . . .201
Anecdote of the Cviba Bloodhound given in Dal-
las' ' History of the Maroons' . . . 262
Use made by the Kamtchatkan of the Brown
Bear ....... 263
The Malayan Sun-Bear .... 263
The Hyffina the subject alike of ancient and
modern fable ...... 2G3
The Hyaena's love of human flesh . . . 263
Aquatic Birds in the Zoological Gardens . 26 {
The Polar Bear , . ... 264
Remarkable tenacity of life in the Condor . 264
The Otter 265
The Monkey-House ..... 265
Gambols of the Monkeys .... 265
The Monkey's power of locomotion • . 266
The Parrot-House 266
The Owls' Cages 266
The Bison 267
Passage from Franklin on the Habits of the
■white-headed Eagle ..... 267
The Note of the wild Swan .... 267
The Emu one of the Wonders of the Animal
Creation . . . . . . .267
Repository for the Carnivorous Animals in the
Zoological Gardens ..... 268
The Puma erroneously supposed to be irreclaim-
able 268
Miraculous Feats attributed to the Lion and the
Tiger 268
Habitations made by the Natives of South Africa
to protect themselves against the Incursions
of Wild Beasts 268
Collection of Dogs in the Zoological Gardens . 269
The Nyl-ghau 269
The AVapiti Deer 269
Ferocity of the Cape Buffalo • . . 269
Peculiarities of the Indian Rhinoceros . . 269
Alleged hostility between the Elephant and the
Rhinoceros ...... 269
The Wild Boar ,270
The Collared Peccary 270
The Giraffe House and Park .... 270
Characteristics of the Ourang-outan . • 271
Expenditure on the Zoological Gardens, from
1825 to 1840 272
Sources of the Funds of the Zoological Society 272
Number of i'ellov.'S and Fellows Elect of the
Zoological Society . • . • • 272
XVlll
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
57. The Camivora Terrace • . • •
58. Coreopsis Geese • • • • •
.59. Cliasseur and Cuba Bloodhounds . •
fiO. View of the Gardens from the Bridge . .
01. Rhinoceros, from the specimen in the Gardens
62. The Giraffe House
Designers.
Engravers.
Page
Tiffin
Jackson .
. 257
FliEEMAN
Whiting
. 260
JJ
j> •
. 262
Tiffin
Jackson .
. 266
Jarvis
j» •
. 270
Tiffin
>> •
. 271
CXVIIL— THE THEATRES OF LONDON.
Suddenness of the growth of the Drama of the
Elizabethan Era • . . • •
Dramatic Writers up to the year I08O
Sliakspere, unquestionably Contemporary with
Peele, Greene, Marlowe, &c. .
Shakspere a Shareholder in the Blackfriars
Theatre in 1589
Marlowe's * Tamburlaine the Great,' and ' Mas-
sacre of Paris/ probably written before 1589
Dramatic Writers after Shakspere . . .
State of the Theatres of London in the time of
Shakspere ......
Court favour enjoyed by Players in the reign of
Elizabeth ......
Chief London Theatres in the year 15S3 .
Number of Actors in London in 1586 . .
The Blackfriars ythe Theatre at which Shakspere
probably made his first appearance, both as
Actor and Writer .....
The Blackfriars Theatre erected in consequence
of the expulsion of Players from the limits of
the City .......
The Children of Her Majesty's Revels
Accommodations of the Blackfriars Theatre
The Blackfriars probably pulled down soon after
the permanent close of the Theatres
The Globe Theatre erected in 1593 .
Description of the Globe Theatre in the Chorus
to 'Henry the Fifth'
Simplicity of the Old Stage ....
Interior of a Theatre on the first night of a new
piece in the time of Jonson
The Globe Theatre burnt to the ground in 1613
The Globe, rebuilt in 1614 ....
The Fortune Theatre, built about 1599 .
Arrangement of the Interior of the Fortune
The Balcony of the Old Theatres .
Chief Actors in the time of Shakspere . .
Prices of Admission to the Old Theatres .
Passage from Ben Jonson's ' Bartholomew Fair '
Painted Scenes of the Theatres of the Shaks-
perian Era ••...,
Old Stage Directions .....
Stage Directions to Greene's < Alphonsus'
Dresses and Properties of the Old Theatres
Extract from ' The Antipodes ' . . ,
Ordinance of the Long Parliament in 1642, com-
manding the cessation of Plays . ,
Re-opening of the Theatres in 1647
Act passed in 1648 for putting down Stage Plays
Plays acted occasionally in private at the re-
sidences of Noblemen ....
Page
273
273
273
274
274
274
274
275
275
275
275
276
276
276
276
276
277
277
277
278
278
278
278
278
279
280
280
280
280
280
280
2S0
281
281
2S1
282
The Cockpit in Drury Lane re-opened in 1658 .
Characteristic feature of the Restored English
Theatre ....••.
The Dramatic Writers of the Latter Part of the
Seventeenth Century .....
Theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields built by D'Ave-
nant in 1662 ... ...
Favours shown to D'Avenant by Charles II.
Appearance of Actresses on the Stage in the
reign of Charles II. • • . . .
Betterton, the Actor • • • . .
Dryden's Tragedies .....
Rise of the School of Genteel Comedy in the
reign of Charles II. . . . . .
The English Opera in the reign of Charles II. ,
Purcell's ' King Arthur ' . . . .
Theatrical Literature of the present day . .
The Italian Opera House erected by Vanbrugh
at the Beginning of the Eighteenth Cen-
tury .......
Ill success of the Italian Opera at its first
Opening .......
Musical Entertainments given in Italian at York
Buildings in 1703 .....
Dramatic Italian piece brought out at Drury
Lane in 1705 ......
Attempts to introduce the Italian Opera into
England .......
Peformance of * Almahide ' in the Italian Lan-
guage, and by Italian Performers, in 1710
Popularity soon obtained in England by the
Italian Perfoi-mers .....
Licence obtained by Killigrew for the formation
of a Company to play at the Cockpit in Drury
Lane .......
Drury Lane Theatre purchased by Garrick' and
Lacy in 1745 ......
Sheridan part-proprietor of Drury Lane in 1776
Drury Lane destroyed by fire in 1809 . .
Covent Garden Theatre opened in 1733 , ,
Co vent Garden burnt down in 1808 .
Covent Garden Theatre rebuilt by Smirke in
1809 . . . , • .
Stage Reformation carried on by Kemble .
Cause of the O. P. Riots ....
Haymarket Theatre erected about 1720 .
Foote's Performances at the Haymarket .
Lesser places of Dramatic Entertaimnent in
London .......
Injury done to the principal Theatres by the
lesser houses ,...•.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
G3. View of the Old Stage and Balcony . . . , ,
04. The Paris Garden Theatre, Southwark
65. The Globe Theatre, Bankside ....','.
66. The Fortune Theatre, Golden Lane, Barbican, as it appeared
in 1790 • . .
67. The Adelphi Theatre . .* ,' .*.*!*
C8. Covent Garden Theatre ... 1 1 * *
Designers.
I'aibholt
Shepherd
Fairhoi.t
B. Sly
Shepherd
Engravers.
Sears •
holioway
Burrows
Whiting
282
282
282
282
282
283
283
283
284
2S4
285
2S5
2R5
2-.5
285
285
285
285
285
286
286
286
286
286
286
286
286
287
273
275
277
279
287
288
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
XIX
CXIX.— -THE TREASURY.
The Treasury the key-stone of the Arch of
Government [ . . • . . •
The Royal Treasury of England manufactured
out of a Cockpit . • • > •
Tennis-court and Cockpit constructed at White-
hall by Henry YlII
The Treasury OiBce kept at the Cockpit, near
Whitehall, in 1708
Print of the Treasury in Pennant's ' London' •
Plan of the Interior of the Treasury in the Bri-
tish Museum ..••..
Account given in the ' Londinum Redivivum' of
the Rise and Progress of the Treasury Build-
ings .......
Description of the Treasury given by Dodsley in
1761
The Cockpit still existing in 1761 . . .
The Exchequer lodged in the Cloisters of West-
minster Abbey in the reign of Edward I.
The Duties of Treasurer in the reign of Edward I.
Exchequer of Receipt • . . . •
The Court of Exchequer the lowest in rank of
the four Courts of Westminster • . .
The Chancellor of the Exchequer for the time
being nominally one of the Judges .
Sir Robert Walpole the last Chancellor of the
Exchequer who sat in a judicial capacity
The Court of Exchequer formerly held in the
King's Palace ......
The Treasury robbed in the reign of Edward I.
Derivations assigned to the name Exchequer .
Removal of the Exchequer from Westminster to
Northampton in 1210 ....
Difficulty of ascertaining the precise locality of
the Exchequer during the Wars of the Roses
The Exchequer a check upon the malversation
of the Treasurer .....
Business of the Exchequer in its simplest form
Office of the Lords Commissioners of the Trea-
sury at Whitehall .....
Tlie Chancellor of the Exchequer not unfre-
Page Tage
quently the same person with the First Lord
289 of the Treasury 294
Old forms of transacting business long retained
289 in the Exchequer 294
Strange designations of the Officials of the Ex-
289 chequer . . . . . . .295
Present system of the Exchequer . . . 295
290 Forms in use in the Exchequer up to 1831 . 295
290 The real business of Finance formerly transacted
by the Clerks of the Bank of England . 295
290 All Payments nominally made into the Exche-
quer formerly received by the Bank . . 295
Deleterious influence of the old system of the
291 Exchequer ...... 296
The old formalities of the Exchequer abolished 297
291 Personal associations of the Treasury • . 297
291 Clerks in Government Offices . . . 297
Familiarity with great objects erroneously sup-
291 posed to expand the Mind . . . 298
291 The Government Office Clerk's routine of Life 298
292 The young Government Clerk . . . 299
The subordinate Government Clerk • . 299
292 The Irish Government Clerk . , . 300
Characteristics of the Scotch Government Clerk 300
292 The Treasury the centre of the Kingdom of Go-
vernment Clerks ..... 301
292 Statesmen who have presided at the Treasury
since the reign of Anne «... 301
292 Sir Robert Walpole 301
292 The talent of governing an instinct with Pitt . 301
293 Pitt's power of Oratory in a great measure arti-
ficial . . i . , .30]
293 Prominent place occupied by the Treasury in
political caricatures and lampoons . . 302
293 Caricatures of Sir Robert Walpole and the Duke
ofArgyle 302
294 Gilray's attack upon the Treasury . . . 303
294 Devices by which Metaphor and Allegory have
attempted to represent the Treasury and its
294 Influence 303
Reverence entertained by some for the Treasury 303
ILLUSTRATIONS.
69. The Treasury, from St. James's Park, 1775 .
70. Board of Trade, &c., on the site of the old Cockpit
Designers.
Shepherd
Shepherd, Jun,
Engravers.
Nugent . 289
Wragg . 304
CXX.—THE HORTICULTURAL AND ROYAL BOTANIC SOCIETIES.
Horticultural Exhibition at Chiswick in June,
1843
Tent at Chiswick for the Exhibition of new
seedling Plants and Flowers . ,
The Fruit Tent
Innumerable Specimens of all the finest flower-
ing Plants brought to Chiswick from all parts
of the Kingdom • • . . ,
The Glass Conservatory at Chiswick
Character of the Assemblage at the Chiswick
Horticultural Exhibition ....
Beauty of the Women of England ,
Number and Yalue of the Prizes given by the
Horticultural Society ....
Services rendered to Horticulture since the esta-
blishment of the Society in 1820
Objects of the Founders of the Horticultural So-
ciety
Gardens and Orchard of the Horticultural So-
ciety .
305
306
306
307
307
307
308
308
309
309
309
Scarcity of Plants known in England until the
Thirteenth or Fourteenth Century . . 309
Most of the Fruits and Vegetables now culti-
vated in England introduced by the Romans 309
Privileges of the Fellows of the Horticultural
Society 309
Expenditure of the Horticultural Society for the
Year 1842 309
Importation of Foreign Plants and Seeds by the
Horticultural Society .... 310
Gardens in the Middle Ages • . . 310
Description given by James I. of Scotland of the
Garden of Windsor Castle .... 310
Gardens in the Suburbs of London in the reign
of Henry II 310
Gardening in the Sixteenth Century . , 311
The Knotted Garden 311
Vegetable Productions for the Tabic in the reign
of Henry VIII. 312
Gardens of Nonsuch • . • . • 313
XX
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Introduction of the Lilac-tree about the middle
of the Seventeenth Century
Features of the Gardens of the Sixteenth Century
Illustration cf a popular superstition in Quin-
tinye"s 'Complete Gardener' . . •
Changes of Taste in Gardening since the Six-
teenth Century . . . • ^ •
Greenwich and St. James's Parks laid out under
the direction of Lc Notre in the reign of
Charles II ',. . *
Kensington Gardens commenced by William
III •
Kensington Gardens laid out by Wise in the
reign of Anne ...»••
Rise of a more natural Taste in gardening in the
reign of Anne ...•••
Waller's Garden at Beaconsfield . -
Kensington Gardens enlarged under the super-
intendence of Bridgeman ....
Formation of the Serpentine in Hyde Park
Evidence given by INIr. Loudon of the state of
the general ideas on the Subject of Garden or
Landscape Scenery * . . • •
Kent the first true English Landscape Artist .
The Gardens at Claremont and Esher laid out
by Kent ......
The oldest Botanic Gardens in England those
of Oxford and Chelsea ....
Page P^o^
One of the earliest attempts to supply Plants
312 with artificial heat made at Chelsea in 1684 . 315
312 Chelsea Gardens under the management of
Philip Miller for a period of nearly Fifty Years 315
312 Arboretum at Kew established in 1760 . . 315
The Arboretum at Kew greatly inferior to the
313 Collection in the Gardens of the Horticultural
Society ....... 315
The Year 1815 the period from -which the com-
313 mencement of the present prosperity of Eng-
lish gardening may be dated . . • 316
313 The Horticultural Society the chief moving im-
pulse of gardening in the present Day . , 316
314 Services rendered to Botany by the Royal Bo-
tanic Society of London .... 316
314 Incorporation of the Botanic Society in 1839 . 316
314 Grounds of the Botanic Society in the Regent's
Park . • . . . . .317
314 Winter Garden about to be erected in the
314 Grounds of the Botanic Society . . .317
Collection of Agricultural Plants in the Botanical
Gardens . . . • . . .318
314 Proposed Museum in the Botanical Gardens . 318
315 American Plants in the Botanical Gardens . 318
Appropriate and Poetical Names for Flowers
315 chosen by Linnseus . . • • . 319
Andromeda and Perseus . . • ,319
315 View from the Mount in the Botanical Gardens 319
ILLUSTRATIONS.
71. The Horticultural Gardens during an Exhibition • •
72. Interior of the Conservatory, Horticultural Gardens .
73. A Knotted Garden ....«••
74. Bowling Green ........
75. Gardens of the Royal Botanical Society, Regent's Park ,
Designers.
Engravers.
Tiffin
Jackson
305
)»
»>
308
Fairiiolt
KiRCHNER
311
R. W. Buss
Landei.ls
313
Tiffin
Jackson
320
CXXL— PRISONS AND PENITENTIARIES.
Number of Persons taken into Custody by the
Metropolitan Police in the Year 1839 .
Highway Robberies, Burglaries, House and
Shop-breaking, more frequent in the Suburbs
than in the Metropolis ....
Average of Burglaries fewer in London than in
the Country ......
Preponderance of Pocket-picking and Forgery
in Middlesex ......
Greater proportion of Female Criminals in the
Metropolis ......
Amount of loss by Robbery in the Metropolitan
Police District in 1838 . . . .
Return made by the Constabulary Commis-
sioners of the Number of Depredators and
Offenders against the Law ....
Return made by the Constabulary Commissioners
of the Number of Houses open for the Accom-
modation of Delinquency and Vice in London
Number of Persons supporting themselves by
Criminal Pursuits in London .
Proportion of known bad Characters in the
ISIetropolis ......
Total Number of notoriously bad Characters in
^ the Parish of St. George the Martyr, Southwark
Kent Street and the Mint the most notorious
^ districts in London for their vicious population
Causes of Vice in London . . . .
Eighteen Prisons in London in the Year 1790 .
Newgate a Gaol in the reign of King John
The Mnrshalsea and Kind's Bench both ancient
Prison«3
321
321
322
322
322
322
323
323
324
324
321
324
324
325
325
335
Henry, Prince of Whales, afterwards Henry V.,
confined by Judge Gascoigne in the King's
Bench ....... 323
The King's Bench thrown open during the
Gordon Riots ••••.. 325
Extent of the jurisdiction of the Marshalsea
Prison ....... 325
The White Lion Prison in Southwark . . 325
The postern of Cripplegate used as a Prison in
the Thirteenth Century . . • • 325
Present Number of the Metropolitan Prisons . 325
The Fleet Prison and the Marshalsea discon-
tinued in 1842 ...... 325
Old Prison Regulations .... 3Jj
Prisons in London used exclusively for Debtors 325
Old Newgate Prison pulled down and re-built
between 1778 and 1780 .... 323
Improvements made at Newgate since the com-
mencement of the Nineteenth Century . 325
Attempts made at a classification of the Prisoners
in Newgate ...... 326
Duties of the Chaplain of Newgate Thirty Years
ago 323
Newgate formerly a positive Institution for the
Encouragement of Vice .... 327
The Classification of Prisons proposed by the
Parliamentary Committee on Metropolitan
Gaols in 1818' 327
Attempts of Mrs. Fry to improve the Female
Prisoners in Newgate . • . • 327
Occupations and Amusements of the Female
Piiso^jers in Newgate i}i 180§ . . ,327
i
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
zxi
Page
The Discipline and Administration of Newgate
still defective ..•,., 328
Report of the Inspectors of Prisons on the State
of Newgate in 1843 328
Giltspur Street Compter .... 329
Ahout 6000 Prisoners Annually Committed to
Giltspur Street ...... 329
Giltspur Street the most insecure of the Metro-
politan Prisons . . • . . .329
Total Number of Persons confined in Bridewell
in the Year 1842 330
Report of the Inspectors of Prisons on the City
Bridewell ...... 330
Coldbath Fields Prison the largest and most
important in England for Criminal pur-
poses ....... 330
Number of Prisoners confined in Coldbath Fields
Prison in 1841 330
Discipline and proceedings of the Coldbath Fields
Prison ....... 331
Prison OiFences in Coldbath Fields Prison in the
Year 1842 331
Punishments in Coldbath Fields . • . 332
Clerkenwell Prison established by Patent granted
by James I. ..... . 332
Demoralising effects of Imprisonment in Clerk-
enwell Prison ..*... 332
The Westminster Bridewell erected in 1834 . 332
Paqb
HorsemongerLane Prison under the jurisdiction
of the Surrey County Magistrates . • 332
The Silent System in operation for the convicted
Prisoners in Horsemonger Lane . • « 332
History of Improvements in Prisons and Prison
Discipline ...... 333
Howard's "Work on * The State of Prisons in
England and Wales ' .... 333
Bentham's Plan for Prison Management . . 333
The Penitentiary at Millbank commenced in
1813 . • . • . • . 333
The Separate System brought into operation in
England in 1790 333
Unhealthy situation of the Millbank Penitentiary 333
The Penitentiary in future to be designated the
Millbank Prison 334
Relaxation of the Separate System in Millbank
Prison in consequence of an increase in the
Number of Insane Prisoners . • • 334
Plan of the Millbank Prison .... 334
Mode of Discipline adopted at the New Model
Prison at Pentonville .... 334
Commissioners for the Control of the Model
Prison nominated by the Queen in Council . 335
Objects to be kept in view at the Model Prison
explained by Sir James Graham . . . 335
Internal arrangements of the Model Prison . 335
Treatment of the Prisoners in the Model Prison 335
ILLUSTRATIONS.
76. The Model Prison, Pentonville
77. Newgate ....
Designers.
Engravers.
Anelay
Jackson
. 321
>j
Sly
. 336
CXXII.— LONDON NEWSPAPERS.
A Newspaper indispensable to the Englishman 337
Newspapers in the Colonies .... 337
The Newspaper a European Invention . • 338
The Acta Diurna of the Romans . . . 338
Publicity given to all the Proceedings of the
Senate during the Consulship of Julius Csesar 338
Private Gazetteers in London before the introduc-
tion of Printed Newspapers . . . 338
Mode of communicating Military and Com-
mercial News resorted to by the Venetian
Government ...... 338
* The English Mercurie ' preserved in the British
Museum 339
The News Book 339
Object of the private News Publisher . . 339
Government Gazettes ..... 339
Periodical Newspapers first published at the Com-
mencement of the Seventeenth Century . 340
'The News of the Present Week,' the first
Weekly Newspaper in England . , . 340
Difference between the London and Parisian
Type of Newspapers ..... 340
Paris the Focus of the Intellectual Activity of
Europe ....... 340
Difference between the Political Character and
Relations of London and Paris . . • 341
Difference in the Historical Development of
the Frame of Government in France and
England ....... 341
* The Intelligencer ' 341
The Manufacture of English Newspapers for a
long time confined exclusively to liondon • 342
The ' Norwich Postman ' published in 1706 . 342
The * Mercurius Politicus * printed at Leith in
1652 342
The earliest permanent Scotch Newspapers • 343
All new Provincial Newspapers framed upon
the Model of the London Journals . . 342
The greater part of London Newspapers printed
and published in the Strand and Fleet Street 342
Three distinct Classes of Persons employed about
Newspapers ...... 342
Capital Invested in the Daily Papers of Lon-
don 343
The * Times ' taken as an Example of the Manner
in which a Daily Paper is got up . . 343
Duties of the Editors and Reporters of the
' Times' 343
Process of Reporting Parliamentary Debates • 343
Printing of the ♦ Times ' . . , . 344
Size of the ' Times '..,,. 344
Extract from the Returns of the Newspaper
Stamp and Advertisement Duty . . • 344
Management of a Weekly Paper Establishment 345
Offices of the Weekly Papers in Fleet Street . 345
Business of the Publisher of a Newspaper • 346
Small Newsvenders • • • . . 346
The Radical Newsvender .... 347
The London Newspaper Agent . • . 347
Supply of London Newspapers to the Provinces 348
Activity set in Motion in order to keep up the
London Newspapers ..... 348
Sunday and Saturday alike Days of Sale with
the Newsvender • . . . . 348
The Newsvenders' Boy .... 349
Dinner given by the Proprietors of the London
Papers to the Newsvenders and their Servants 349
Intellectual Character of British Journalists . 349
Alleged Superiority of the French Newspaper
Press over the English • . • . 350
XXll
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Cliaracter of Mercantile Speculation preponder-
ating in Englisli Newspapers
The Daily Papers less Narrators of Events than
Mirrors of the Transactions themselves
Newspapers at one Time not allowed to report
the Proceedings of Parliament . . .
Wearisome Fidelity with which the Debates in
Parliament are reported in the Daily Papers
Strongly-marked Spirit of Individuality of each
of the leading Daily Papers . • •
Characteristics of the * Times ' . . .
Characteristics of the principal Daily Papers .
Page
350
350
350
350
350
350
351
The exclusively Literary Papers .
The leading Political Weekly Papers
' Bell's Life in London ' the only exclusively
Sporting Paper • . . . .
The Fashionable Papers ....
Agricultural Papers .....
Commercial Journals .....
Special Journals of almost every Class and Pro-
fession ....,,,
Newspapers of Religious Sects , . .
Illustrated Newspapers . « • . .
ILLUSTRATIONS.
78. 'A Perfect Diurnall of the Passa-ges in Parliament '
79. ' Glorious News.' — Horn-boys . .
Designers.
B. Sly
Anelay
Enijravers.
Sly
Jackson
Ta j k
351
351
351
351
351
351
351
352
352
337
352
CXXIII.—THE SOCIETY OF ARTS, &c. IN THE ADELPHI.
Services rendered by the Society of Arts .
The Society of Arts established in 1754 .
The Society of Arts settled in the Adelphi in
1774
Figure of Peace sent to the Society of Arts by
Bacon in 1758 ......
Bacon's Works now at the Adelphi
Rewards of Merit given by the Society of
Arts .......
F"'irst public Exhibition of Paintings in England
in the Rooms of the Society of Arts . .
Services rendered by the Society of Arts to the
Manufactures and Commerce of England
Impulse given to the Growth of Forest Trees by
the Society of Arts .....
Movement in Agriculture made through the
Agency of the Society of Arts
Improvements made in Chemistry, Manufac-
tures, and Mechanics generally, through the
Means of the Society of Arts
Rewards given by the Society of Arts to the
Bethnal Green and Spitalfiekls Weavers
Distinguishing Features of the Society of Arts .
Rewards given by, and general Proceedings of,
the Society of Arts during the Year 1842
Model-Room of the Society of Arts
Course pursued by the Society of Arts in be-
stowing Rewards or Premiums .
Subjects for which Premiums are offered by the
Society of Arts . . , ,
Improvement capable of being made in the So-
ciety of Arts
Characteristics of Barry ....
Struggles of Barry in the early Part of his
Career •....,.
The Decoration of St. Paul's proposed to the
Royal Academy .....
353
353
354
354
354
354
354
354
354
354
355
355
355
355
356
357
357
358
359
360
360
Offer of Barry to decorate the Rooms of the So-
ciety of Arts ......
Magnitude of Barry's Undertaking . .
The Principle of Civilization forcibly embodied
in Barry's Picture of Orpheus . . •
AlteratioVis made by Barry in his Etching of his
Picture of ' Orpheus civilizing the Inhabitants
of Thrace ' ......
Barry's * Grecian Harvest Home' . •
* The Victors at Olympia ' . . . .
Diagoras of Rhodes . . . • •
Barry represented by himself in the Character
of Timanthes in the ' Victors at Olympia ' .
Canova'a Testimony to the Merits of Barry's
Picture of the ' Victors at Olympia' . .
Failure of the fourth of Barry's Pictures .
Barry's Picture of the Meeting of the Members
of the Society of Arts for the Annual Distri-
bution of the Premiums • • • .
Barry's ' View of Elysium' . • • •
Answer of Barry to the Objections raised against
* Elysium '..,...
Grouping of the Characters in Barry's ♦ Ely-
sium '*......
Features in the ' View of Elysium ' conspicu"
ously exhibiting Barry's Judgment . •
Anecdotes relating to the * View of Elysium '
told in Cunningham's * Lives of the Pain-
ters '.......
Barry's Mode of Subsistence during the Pro-
gress of his Work .....
Completion of Barry's Paintings in 1783 .
Exhibition of Barry's Pictures for his Benefit .
Sum of Money gained by the Exhibition of
Barry's Paintings .....
Money presented to Barry on the Completion of
his Work ......
ILLUSTRATIONS.
80. Barry's Pictures — Grecian HarN-est Home ....
81. Model Room of the Society ......
Portrait of Barry ........
Barry's Pictures— Orpheus Civilizing the Inhabitants of Thrace
Barry's Pictures — Tlie Victors at Olympia ....
Barry's Pictures — View of Elysium
Barry's Pictures— Elysium, or the State of Final Retribution .
Designers.
Engravers.
82.
83.
84.
85.
86,
Dukes
Anelay
Sears
Jackson .
Melville
Dukes
holloway
Vasey
Whiting
Burrows
Sears .
361
361
362
363
363
363
363
364
364
364
365
365
365
366
366
367
367
367
367
367
367
353
357
359
362
364
366
368
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CXXIV.— MEDICAL AND SURGICAL HOSPITALS AND LUNATIC ASYLUMS.
The London Hospitals more eminent as Schools
of Medicine than for their influence as Social
Institutions ......
Limited Capacity of the London Hospitals .
St. Bartholomew's Hospital Founded in 1122 .
St. Bartholomew's Hospital granted to the
City in 1548
St. Bartholomew's Hospital newly Incorporated
in 1544 .......
Expenditure of St. Bartholomew's Hospital in
Present Income of St. Bartholomew's Hospital
Interior of St. Bartholomew's Hospital •
Range of Buildings at the hack of the Western
Wing of St. Bartholomew's Hospital . •
St. Thomas's Hospital originally a Religious
Establishment . • • . . •
St. Thomas's Hospital opened for the reception
of Diseased People in 1552 . • «
Gross Annual Income of St. Thomas's Hospital
Additions made to St. Thomas's Hospital in
The Museum of St. Thomas's Hospital . .
The Founder of Guy's Hospital
Bequests to Guy's Hospital since its Foundation
Statue of Mr. Guy in the Square of Guy's
Hospital ••.....
Arrangement of the Interior of Guy's Hospital
Lunatic House belonging to Guy's Hospital
Botanic Garden of Guy's Hospital . . ,
Constitution of the London Hospitals • .
Governors of St. Thomas's Hospital . .
The Government of Guy's Hospital settled by its
Founder .......
Medical and Surgical Establishment at St. Bar-
tholomew's ......
Duties of the Hospital Dressers . . ,
The Sisters of the Wards ....
Duties of the Hospital Nurse ....
Most Common Ofl'ences against the Hospital
Regulations . . . . . .
Form of Admission to the London Hospitals
Average Number of Daily Admissions into the
London Hospitals .....
General Arrangement and Regulations of St.
Thomas's Hospital .....
Arrangements and Regulations of Guy's Hospital
Importance of the Great London Hospitals as
Schools of Medicine .....
John Hunter's Medical Lectures, the first ever
delivered in London .....
Medical liCctures delivered by Mr, Abernethy .
Advantages of a Medical School connected with
a Hospital ......
The Schools of Surgery of St. Thomas's and
Guy's Hospital United, from 1760 to 1825 .
The Office of Anatomical Lecturer at St.
Thomas's filled for many years by Sir Astley
Cooper .......
Privileges of the Students in Guy's Restricted by
the Authorities of St. Thomas's Hospital
Page
369
369
369
370
370
370
370
370
371
371
371
371
371
371
372
372
372
372
372
373
373
373
373
373
374
374
374
374
375
375
375
375
376
376
376
376
376
376
377
Westminster Hospital Established in 1719
Establishment of St. George's Hospital in 1733
The London Hospital removed to Whitechapel
in 1759
The Floating Hospital .....
The Middlesex Hospital Established in 1740 .
Date of the Establishment of the Principal Hos-
pitals of London .....
Population of the Principal General Hospitals
of London on the day of the Census in 1841 .
Sanatorium in the New Road Opened in 1842 .
Lying-in-Hospitals in different parts of the Me-
tropolis .......
Number of Lunatics and Idiots in Confinement
within the limits of the Metropolitan Lunacy
Commissioners .....
Bethlem Hospital Founded as a Convent in 1247
The House of Bethlem converted into an Hos-
pital in 1330
Purchase of Bethlem by the City in 1546
Bethlem Hospital under the Control of the
Governors of Bridewell ....
Funds of Bethlem Hospital ....
Total Income of the Real and Personal Estate
of Bethlem Hospital for the year ending
Christmas, 18.36 .....
Description of Old Bethlem Hospital in 1632 .
New Bethlem Hospital Commenced in 1675
Description of Bethlem Hospital in an Edition
of Stow, in 1754 . . . . .
Report of a Committee in April, 1799, on the
state of Bethlem Hospital ....
Present Site of Bethlem Hospital settled in
1810
Steps taken to obtain the Necessary Funds for
the Building of Bethlem Hospital . .
Completion of Bethlem Hospital in 1815 ,
The Wings of Bethlem Hospital appropriated to
Criminal Lunatics .....
Additions made to Bethlem Hospital in 1837 .
Regulations and Arrangements of Bethlem
Hospital .......
Brutal system of Treatment formerly carried on
at Bethlem ......
Report of a Committee Appointed in 1598 to
view Bethlem ......
Indiscriminate admission of Visitants to Bethlem
Hospital .......
Exposure in 1814 of the Wretched System pur-
sued at Bethlem .....
Description of one of the Women's Galleries in
Bethlem Hospital .....
Improvements in the System of Management at
Bethlem Commenced about 1816 . ,
St. Luke's Hospital opened in 1751 , ,
Income of St. Luke's Hospital , .
Lunatic Asylum for the County of Middlesex,
situated at Hanwell .....
Admirable System of Management at the Han-
well Lunatic Asylum ....
Paoe
377
377
377
378
378
378
378
379
379
379
379
379
379
379
380
380
380
380
381
381
381
381
382
382
382
382
382
382
383
383
383
383
383
384
384
384
ILLUSTRATIONS.
87. Bartholomew's Hospital
88. St. George's Hospital
89. Bethlem Hospital
Designers.
Anelay
Engravers.
Jackson
369
377
384
2
XXIV
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CXXV.— LONDON SHOPS AND BAZAARS.
Pa OK
The Shops of London in themselves a very Cy-
clopaedia of Knowledge . . . • 385
The Shops of London among the most suggestive
of all Subjects for Reflection . . ♦ 385
General Character of the Shops in Old London 386
Old Houses in Gray's Inn Lane . . • 386
The Bazaar System more extensively adopted in
London in the Twelfth Century than at the
present time ....•• 386
Names of the older London Streets . . 386
Eating-houses on the Banks of the Thames in
the Twelfth Century .... 386
The Frippery or Clothes-shops of the Time of
the Edwards and Henrys .... 387
Print in Smith's ' Antiquities of London' of an
old House formerly standing in Chancery Lane 387
Shop-windows common in the reign of Ed-
ward VI 387
Print of Winchester Street, London Wall, in
Smith's 'Antiquities of London' . . 388
Representations of old Houses in London given
in Smith's ' Antiquities of London' . . 388
Sash-windows to Shops introduced about the
beginning of the Eighteenth Century . . 388
Universal practice of placing Sign-boards over
Shops until the commencement of the
Eighteenth Century ..... 388
Itinerant Shops in London in the Eighteenth
Century 389
Progress of Improvement in the London Shops 389
Picture of the London Shops given in Southey's
« Letters of Espriella ' . . . .389
The Public Houses of London . . . 389
Taverns and Gin Palaces . . • . 389
The London Tavern-keeper .... 389
Interior of the London Gin Palaces . . 389
Splendour of the Gin Palaces situated in the
Seven Dials and Whitechapel . . . 390
Respectability of the Taverns at the West End
of London 390
Bakers' Shops in London .... 391
Advance made by Chemists in Shop Architec-
ture and Arrangements .... 391
Little change which has taken place in the
Butchers' Shops in London . . . 391
Magnificence of the Grocers' Shops of the Me-
tropolis 391
The Shops devoted to the Sale of Wearing Ap-
parel the most remarkable in London . .391
The Principle of Competition driven farther in
the Drapery Business than in most others . 391
Effects of the Rise of Cotton Manufactures in
England 391
The Goods exposed in the Drapers' Shops in
Whitechapel generally of an humble and
cheap Kind 392
Page
Extraordinary Shop in Aldgate . . . 392
Magnificence* of the Drapers' Shops in St. Paul's
Churchyard ...... 392
Draper's Shop on Ludgate Hill . . . 392
Remarks in the ' Westminster Review ' on the
Architecture of the Draper's Shop on Ludgate
Hill 392
Elegance of the Shops in Oxford Street . . 393
Observations in the * Companion to the Alma-
nac ' on a Draper's Shop at the Southern End
of the Quadrant in Regent Street . . 393
System of Competition carried on in the Lon-
don Shops ...... 394
Changes in Shop Arrangements . . . 394
Letters to attract Notice over Shop Win-
dows ....... 394
Catch-words in Shops to attract the Notice of the
Passers-by ....«• 394
Undersellers ...... 394
Remarks in Defoe's ' Complete Tradesman ' on
underselling ...... 394
Tailors' and Hatters' Shops .... 395
Fanciful Arrangements of Modern Times ex-
hibited in the Shops of the Bootmakers of
London ...... 395
A Modern English Bazaar not a genuine repre-
sentative of the Class .... 395
Articles sold in the Soho Bazaar . . . 396
Rules of the Soho Bazaar • . • • 396
Interior of the Pantheon Bazaar . . . 396
Commodities sold at the Pantechnicon . . 397
Chief commodities displayed in the Baker Street
Bazaar . ..... 397
The North London Repository . . . 397
The Burlington and Lowther Arcades . * . 397
Multifarious articles displayed in the Window of
a Pawnbroker's Shop .... 397
Brokei-s' Shops 398
Curiosity Shops in Wardour Street • . 398
Cellar Shops in Monmouth Street , . • 398
Shops for the Sale of Second-hand Garments in
Holywell Street and Field Lane . . . 398
Assemblage of Shops for the Sale of old Commo-
dities in the vicinity of Drury Lane . . 398
The daily economy of London Shops . . 398
Opening of London Shops in the Morning . 399
Art and dexterity displayed in the arrangement
of the commodities in Drapers' and Mercers'
Shops 399
Duties of the Shop Walker .... 399
Brilliancy of the London Shops at Night . . 399
The question of Shop-shutting a subject of much
discussion ...... 399
Sketch given in Defoe's * Complete Tradesman '
of Shopkeeping in 1727 . . , 400
ILLUSTRATIONS.
90. Old Shop, corner of Fleet Street and Chancery Lane, in 1799
91. A Frippery .......
92. Kemble Tavern, Bow Street, Long Acre .
93. Shop in Regent Street
94. Pantheon Bazaar
Designers.
Fairholt
Shepherd
Anelay
Engravers.
SlaDer
. 385
Sears
. 387
HOLLOWAY
. 390
GORVVAY
. 393
Jackson
. 400
[Prerogative Will-Officu.]
CI.— DOCTORS' COMMONS.
Among those mysterious places which one constantly hears of, without being able
very clearly to understand^ is that known by the scarcely less mysterious appel-
lation of Doctors' Commons. We are aware that it is a locality which has a
great deal to do with wills^ and something with matrimony — that husbands, for
instance, go there to get rid of unfaithful wives — wives of unfaithful or cruel
husbands ; and that, we believe, is about the extent of the general information on
the subject. Many, no doubt, like ourselves, have thrown a passing glance into
that well-known gateway in the south-western corner of St. Paul's Churchyard,
with a vague sentiment of curiosity and expectation, and have added as little as
we have to their slender stock of information by so doing : the most noticeable
feature being the board affixed to the wall by the '^ Lodge," calling on strangers
to '' stop," and warning them against the blandishments of certain porters ; whilst,
as an amusing commentary, one of the said offenders is sure to come up to you
with a delightful air of unconscious innocence to repeat the offence. But the
desire to serve their fellow-creatures is evidently a passion with the porters of
Doctors' Commons : there is nothing they are not prepared to do for you, even
if it be to offer to relieve your failing sight by reading aloud the very warning
in question. Well, we have no cause to answer or to institute, so are in no
VOL. v. B
2 LONDON.
danger of being seduced into employing our volunteer guide's favourite proctor:
but he shall lead us through these comparatively unknown regions. The word
Lodge naturally makes us look for the edifice of which it is an appendage, and
as we pass through the gateway a stately house, on the right of the small open
square, presents itself, enclosed within lofty walls : but that, it appears, is the
Dean of St. Paul's house. As we step into Carter Lane, we are reminded of the
palace formerly standing here, called the Royal Wardrobe, and to which the
widow of the Black Prince, the once '' Fair Maid of Kent," was brought after
the frightful scene in the Tower, in 1381, when the followers of Wat Tyler broke
into it, murdered the chief men they found there, and treated her so rudely
that she fell senseless ; and here in the evening of the same day her son King
Richard joined her. From Carter Lane a narrow passage leads us into Knight
Rider Street, deriving its name from the circumstance, as our guide informs us,
with a smile and a look which seem to express his wonder at his own learning,
that the train of mounted kniglits used to pass through this street in the olden
time on their way from the Tower to the tournaments in Smithfield. That fact
havintr been duly impressed, he next points out to us the famous Heralds' Col-
lege on Bennett's Hill; and, lastly, the inscription over a plain-looking build-
ing opposite, '' the Prerogative Will Office " — one of the most interesting and im-
portant features of Doctors' Commons. Persons are passing rapidly in and out
the narrow court, their bustle alone disturbing the marked quiet of the neigh-
bourhood. At the end of the court we ascend a few steps and open a door, when
the scene exhibited in the engraving at the head of this paper is before us. At
first all seems hurry and confusion^ or at least as if every one had a great deal
of work to do, in a very insufficient space of time. Rapidly from the top to the
bottom of the page run the fingers of the solicitors' clerks, as they turn over leaf
after leaf of the bulky volumes they are examining at the desks in the centre,
long practice having taught them to discover at a glance the object of their
search ; rapidly move to and fro those who are fetching from the shelves or
carrying back to them the said volumes ; rapidly glide the pens of the nume-
rous copyists who are transcribing or making extracts from wills in all those little
boxes along the sides of the room. But as we begin to look a little more closely
into the densely packed occupants of the central space, we see persons whose air
and manners exhibit a striking difference to those around them : there is no mis-
understanding that they are neither solicitors nor solicitors' clerks acting for
others, but parties whose own interests may be materially affected by the result
of their search. Even that weather-beaten sailor just come in, whose face one
would think proof against sensibility of any kind, reveals the anxiety of its
owner. He has just returned probably from some long voyage, and one can
fancy him to have come hither to see whether the relative, who, the newspapers
have informed him, is dead, has left him, as he expected, the means of settling
down quietly at home at Deptford, or Greenwich, or some other sailor's paradise.
He steps up to the box here on our right hand, just by the entrance, pays his
shilhng, and gets a ticket, with a direction to the calendar where he is to search
for the name of the deceased. He must surely be spelling every name in that
page he has last turned over; aye, there it is; and he now hurries off, as directed,
with the calendar, to the person pointed out to him as the clerk of searches. A
DOCTORS' COMMONS. 3
volume from one of the shelves is immediately laid before him, the place is
found, and there lies the object of his hopes and fears — the eventful will. Line
by line you can see his face grow darker and darker — a grim smile at last ap-
pears— he has not been forgotten — there is a ring perhaps — or five-pounds to
buy one, or some such trifle : the book is hastily closed ; and the sailor hurries
back to his old privations and dangers, deprived of all that had so long helped
him to pass through them with patience, if not cheerfulness. Here again is a
picture of another kind : a lady, dressed in a style of the showiest extravagance,
whose business is evidently of a more important kind than a mere search — an
executrix probably — is just leaving the ofHce, when at the door she is met by
another lady, with so low a curtesy, and with such an expression of malice in the
countenance, as at once tells the story confirmed by their respective appearances.
The successful and the unsuccessful have met. The former, however, hurries
away, or we should have a scene from nature, that Fielding or Moliere might
have been pleased to witness.
When we consider the immense amount of business transacted in this Court,
we need not wonder at the bustle that prevails in a place of such limited dimen-
sions. As the law at present stands, if a person die possessed of property lying
entirely within the diocese where he died, probate or proof of the will is made or
administration taken out before the Bishop or Ordinary of that diocese ; but if
there were goods and chattels only to the amount of 5/.* (in legal parlance, bona
notahilia) within any other diocese, and which is generally the case, then the
jurisdiction lies in the Prerogative Court of the Archbishop of the province, that
is, either at York or at Doctors' Commons — the latter, we need hardly say, being
the Court of the Archbishop of Canterbury. The two Prerogative Courts
therefore engross the great proportion of the business of this kind through the
country; for although the Ecclesiastical Courts have no power over the bequests
of or succession to unmixed real property, if such were left, cases of that nature
seldom or never occur. And, as between the two provinces, not only is that of
Canterbury much more important and extensive, but since the introduction of
the funding system, and the extensive diffusion of such property, nearly all
wills of importance belonging even to the province of York are also proved in
Doctor's Commons, on account of the rule of the Bank of England to acknow-
ledge no probates of wills but from thence. To this cause, among others, may
be attributed the striking fact that the business of this Court between the three
years ending with 1789, and the three years ending with 1829, had been doubled.
The number of v/ills proved in the latter period was about 6500, the number
of administrations granted (that is, where no will had been left) about 3500 ;
since then, we believe, the business has not materially increased. Of the vast
number of persons affected, or at least interested in this business, we see, not
only from the crowded room before us, but from the statement given in the
Report of the Select Committee on the Admiralty and other Courts of Doctors'
Commons in 1833, where it appears that in one year (1829) the number of
searches amounted to nearly 30,000. In the same year extracts were taken from
wills in G414 cases. Should any of our readers wonder how this latter estimate
is obtained, or why it should be necessary to employ the office clerks in so many
* Except in tlie Diocese of London, where the amount is 10/.
B 2
4 LOJNDON.
instances, if that be the explanation given, let him amuse himself by stepping
into the office, and call for one of the great treasures of the place— nay. the
greatest— Shakspere's will. As he gazes with reverential eyes on the writing
that bequeathed the poet's property to his offspring, traced by the same fingers
that from boyhood upwards had seldom touched paper but to bequeath wealth
beyond all price to posterity, — as he pauses over even the most indifferent words,
hoping to find some latent meaning, or turns with a feeling of heartfelt congra-
tulation to the passage respecting Shakspere's wife, till of late so inexplicable, if
not painful — now, through the recent discover}^ so clear and satisfactory* — he will
very likely feel an inclination to copy some remarkable phrase or sentence. But
as he unwittingly takes out a pencil for that purpose, in the very sight of one
of the officers passing at the time, who shall paint the horror that overspreads
the countenance of the latter ! A pencil in the hands of a stranger in the
Prerogative Court ! — it is well for the offender that Prerogative has grown com-
paratively mild and amiable of late centuries, or at least that its claws have been
very closely pared, which comes to the same thing, for else there is no saying
what might not be the consequence. In sober truth, there is something very
ludicrous in the excessive jealousy shown in this matter. Sir W. Betham com-
plained that they would not, even for genealogical purposes, allow a person to
make a mcm.orandum or list of wills from the hidex, much less from the office
coyU'fi of wills ; and, in consequence, one naturally wonders how much of this is
proper and necessary for the safety of the documents, to prevent their being
tampered with, and how much of it is produced by the contemplation of the
profits made from the enforced employment of those busy gentlemen in the
boxes. In other points the management of the office is admirable. Wills, of
whatever date, are always to be found at half an hour's notice — generally a very
few minutes suffice. They are kept (those only excepted which have come in
recently, and have not passed through the preliminary processes of engrossing,
registering, and calendaring,) in a fire-proof room called the Strong Room.
The original wills begin with the date of 1483, the copies from 1383. The latter
are on parchment, strongly bound with brass clasps, and so numerous as to fill
with dingy-looking volumes every nook and corner of the public room, and also
partially to occupy a room above stairs. We must add to this notice of the
Office, that in country cases, when it is inconvenient for parties to come to
London to be sworn, commissions are issued. The number of such commissions
issued in one year (1832) was 4580, besides 300 special commissions for par-
ticular cases, such as of limited administrations, special probates of trust pro-
perty, and the wills of married women.
But what, it may be and no doubt often is asked, is the meaning of the con-
nection between the Church and wills,— the Archbishop of Canterbury and the
goodly estate left by the retired cheesemonger who died last week ? The answer
is a somewhat startling one. Dr. Nicholl, in his recent speech in the House of
Commons, referring to the testamentary causes, says, '' These came under such
jurisdiction at a period when the bishops and other clergy claimed the property
of intestates to be applied to pious uses, without even being required to pay
their debts. In the course of time this claim had been considerably limited, and
* See ' rictoiial Shakspere ;' note on Postscript to ' Twelfth Night.'
DOCTORS' COMMONS. 5
the clergy were obliged to pay the debts of the intestate out of his property
before any of it could be applied to pious uses. Subsequent restrictions had,
however, required that the property of the intestate should be given to his widow
and children ; and afterwards it was enacted, that where such relations did not
exist, the property should go to the next of kin, and, failing these, should go to
the Crown.'' So that, instead of being surprised that so much of our property
should pass into the jurisdiction of the Church, we have reason rather to be
thankful in many cases that it ever comes out again. As the ecclesiastical juris-
diction in testamentary causes is not an isolated feature of Doctors' Commons,
but, on the contrary, both in its origin and history, intimately connected with the
other Courts we are about to mention, and as so much of that jurisdiction is at
this very moment passing away by the consent of the heads of the Church itself,
we must enter a little more closely into the matter. All readers of history are
familiar with the endeavours made by the priesthood in every country of Europe,
after the complete establishment of Christianity, to obtain authority in temporal
as well as in spiritual affairs ; endeavours which were nowhere more charac-
terised by greater pertinacity and boldness than in England, because nowhere
more energetically resisted ; and, though defeated in their grand object of re-
ducing our sovereigns to a state of vassalage to the Pope, even if they could not
get the sovereign power itself vested in ecclesiastics, as they did in some of the
states of the great German confederation, yet, short of that, their influence could
hardly have been much greater than it was in this country for some centuries.
And it could not well be otherwise. Being the only large class of persons that
could be deemed an instructed one, during the middle ages, power naturally
flowed into their hands, and though used no doubt in the maia more for the
benefit of the people than it could have been if vested elsewhere, was, it is
equally doubtless, perverted to their own selfish gratifications. Hence their
enormous wealth, hence their countless privileges, by which they were enabled
to avoid all the duties of citizenship, and obtain a thousand advantages which
just citizenship cannot bestow; hence their castles and hosts of retainers ; hence
their full-blown pride and ambition. But the most striking evidence of their
power, and, we must add, of their comparative fitness for power, is the existence
among us to this hour of the canon law, which is simply a collection of the ordi-
nances, decrees, decretal epistles, and bulls issued by the Popes or the councils
of the Eoman Catholic Church, and the general tendency of which was to esta-
blish the supremacy of the spiritual over the merely temporal authority. A
new system of law thus sprung up by the side of the Civil or Roman law,
Avith which it became gradually connected. The earliest English Ecclesiastical
Courts appear to have been established by the Conqueror WiUiam, and at the
same time the Bishops were forbidden thenceforth to sit, as they had been ac-
customed, in the civil courts of the countr}^ with laymen. By the time of Henry
IL we read of the Courts of the Archbishop, Bishop, and Archdeacon. It was
a critical period in the history of the Church. The struggle for supremacy
began in the reign of William, and was for a great length of time hotly con-
tinued. To a certain extent the Ecclesiastics were successful. They esta-
blished the partial authority of the canon law in their own courts, and
they managed to introduce the civil law into the ordinary tribunals. But
that was all. As regards their chief object, spiritual supremacy, they failed.
6 LONDON.
Their canon law was received, it is true, and became an important part of
English jurisprudence, but received in the spirit of a '• people " who had ^- taken
it at their free liberty, by their own consent to be used among them, and not as
laws of any foreign prince, potentate, or prelate,"* and who, therefore, took consi-
derable liberties with it in so doing. Not only, for example, have the kings and
barons of our earlier history steadily opposed all its doctrines of non-resistance
and passive obedience, but the most eminent lawyers at all times exhibited so little
deference for its authority, that it gradually sank, with the civil law, into the
position described by Blackstone, who observes, '^ that all the strength that either
the papal or imperial laws have obtained in this realm, is only because they have
been admitted and received by immemorial usage and custom, in some particular
cases, and some particular courts ; and then they form a branch of the leges non
scn/)/^ (unwritten laws), or customary laws; or else because they are, in some
other cases, introduced by consent of parliament, and then they owe their vali-
dity to the leges scriptce, or statute law." To the former class essentially belong
the courts of Doctors' Commons, and all the numerous minor ecclesiastical courts
through the country — which are at once the chief remains of the civil and
canon laws among us, and of the mighty temporal power formerly exercised by
the church.
The chief courts of Doctors' Commons are — the Court of Arches, which is the
supreme ecclesiastical court of the whole province; the Prerogative Court, where
all contentions arising out of testamentary causes are tried; the Consistory Court
of the Bishop of London, which only differs from the other consistory courts
throughout the country in its importance as including the metropolis in its
sphere of operations ; and the Court of Admiralty, which seems, at the first
glance, oddly enough situated among such neighbours. All these hold
their sittings in the Common Hall of the College, towards which we now direct
our steps. AVe have not far to go. Some fifty yards or so up the street, we
pass through an unpretending-looking gateway, and find ourselves in a square,
surrounded on three sides with good old handsome houses, each door bearing the
name of ^ Dr. ' some one, names mostly familiar to the public in connection
with the reports of trials in Doctors' Commons ; whilst in front is the entrance
to the Hall, which projects into the square from the left, forming a portion of
its fourth side. Without any architectural pretension, this is a handsome and
exceedingly comfortable court. The dark polished wainscot reaching so high up
the walls, whilst above are the richly-emblazoned coats of arms of all the Doctors
for a century or two past ; the fire burning so cheerily, this winter's day, in the stove
in the centre ; the picturesque dresses of the unengaged advocates in their scarlet
and ermine, and of the proctors in their ermine and black, lounging about it ;
the peculiar arrangement of the business part of the Court, with its raised gal-
leries on each side, for the opposing advocates ; the absence of prisoner's dock
or jury-box — nay, even of a public, of which Ave do not see a solitary repre-
sentative— altogether impress the stranger with a sense of agreeable novelty.
As to the business going on, it is a sitting of the Court of Arches; and the
cause one of the least interesting of the subjects that come before this Court,
which include, as in Chaucer's time, cases —
* Preamble to Statute 25 Hen. VIII.
DOCTORS' COMMONS.
[Hall of Doctors' Commons.]
* Of defamation, and avouterie,
Of church reves, and of testaments,
Of contracts, and lack of sacraments,
Of usure and simony also :"
besides those of sacrilege, blasphemy, apostacy from Christianity, adultery,
partial or entire divorce, incest, solicitations of chastity, and a variety of others
connected chiefly with the discipline of the Church, its buildings, and its
officers: a formidable list of offences, when the Church was strong enough to
enforce its powers, and, in case of conviction, to punish offenders with the
infliction of fines and penances, or the more awful doom of excommunication.
Almost the only criminal cases now brought before the ecclesiastical courts
throughout England are those for defamation, generally of female character, and
for brawling and smiting in churches, or places attached, as vestries. Penance for
defamation, though almost banished from the supreme courts here^ is still
in practice, it appears, in the country. In connection with the dioceses of
Exeter, Salisbury, and Norwich we read, in the Report of the Ecclesiastical
Commissioners on the Ecclesiastical Courts, in 1832 (the Heport on which the
measures now pending are based) of cases of this kind; — but the ridicule and ex-
citement caused by the appearance, in open church, of offenders in their white
sheets, has caused the penance to be privately performed. The general method
seems to be that described by Mr. John Kitson, the ''Joint Principal Re-
gistrar " of Norwich : the defamer makes retractation in church, ''in the presence
of the complainant and six or eight of her friends." The nature of the business
in the Court of Arches may be best shown by the brief summary given in the
Report, for three years— 1827, 1828, and 1829. There were twenty-one matrimo-
8 LONDON.
nial causes: one of defamation, four of brawling, five church-smiting, one church-
rate, one le^^acy, one tithes, four correction — total, thirty-eight ; of these, seven-
teen were appeals from other courts and twenty-one original suits. The last
arise from the Court having original jurisdiction in certain cases, and assuming it
in others, at the request of the inferior courts. The great majority of cases, it
will be seen, are matrimonial. Dr. Nicholl " conceived that the jurisdiction in
matrimonial contracts was given to ecclesiastical courts partly in consequence of
the fiict that marriage, at that period, was regarded as a sacrament, and partly
because the marriage law was chiefly founded on the canon law." The peculiar
mode of procedure in this Court (and it is the same in the others) demands some
notice. At the commencement of a suit a proctor is employed, who obtains a
citation, calling upon the party, whether defendant or offender, to appear. This
citation is served by one whom Chaucer has made an old acquaintance, though he
now appears under a new name. He is no longer the Sumpnour, but the Appa-
ritor. And we may pause a moment to observe that this change is but the
sliglitest of the many this character has undergone. In the very commonplace
but, no doubt, respectable person, who now executes the high behests of the
Church, who would look for the successor of him whose portrait is given in
Chaucer's matchless collection ? — ■
'•* A Sumpnour was there with us in that place,
That had a fire-red cherubinnes fp^ce ;
* * * * *
With scalled" browes black, and pilled f beaid,
Of his visage children were sore afeard.
There n' as quicksilver, litarge, ne brimstone,
Boras, ceruse, ne oil of tartar none,
Ne ointement that woulde cleanse or bite,
That him might helpen of his whelkes X white,
Ne of the knobbcs sitting on his cheeks.
Well lov'd he garlic, onions, and leeks ;
And for to drink strong wine as red as blood.
Then would he speak, and cry as he were wood. §
And when that he well drunken had the wine,
Then would he speaken no word but Latine,
A fewe termes could he, two or three
That he had learned out of some decree."
Alas ! the sources of all these generous tastes, good living, and of so much
personal beauty, are gone; he is no longer allowed to seek out, as of old, cases
for punishment, with the agreeable alternative of showing a world of kindly feel-
ing and mercy, when melted into compassion by — the proper reasons. From
being, as he was, the dread and curse of the community, he has, it must be owned,
sunk into melancholy insignificance. Well, the citation served, and the party
appearing (if not, he is declared in contempt, which is, even now, a really serious
piece of business), a war of allegations and counter allegations commences; then
witnesses are examined, each alone by the examiner, on oath, on a set of ques-
tions as well calculated as so vicious a system can admit for the eliciting of the
truth ; and then the opposing advocates finally appear in Court, each armed
with his formidable mass of papers, from which he lays the case before the
Court, selecting such evidence as he pleases. Of course his sins, whether of
* ^called— &cmiy. -j- Pllled—hj.U, or scanty.
1 ^^ '''^'^^'^^«—p>"obal)ly some coirupt humour breaking out on the face. ^WoGd—mmA.
DOCTORS' COMMONS. 9
omission or commission, are pointed out by the advocate in the gallery oppo-
site, and thus the judge, who is busy making notes the whole time, obtains as
complete a view of the case as is possible where the witnesses do not appear in
Court to give their evidence publicly, when there may be those present who
could detect any falsehood, and where they are free from the grand test of all
truth — cross-examination. Yet there should be something good in this mode
of examining witnesses, when we find the Bank solicitor, Mr. J. W. Freshfield,
making the following statement to the commissioners : —
" My opinion is, that viva voce examination is the very worst method ; that the
examination in the Court of Chancery [where distinct but unalterable questions
are put] is defective in an inferior degree; and that the examination in the
Ecclesiastical Court is the most perfect : speaking of my own experience upon
that subject, I think that in viva voce examination it is not the question
what is the truth, but how much of the truth shall be allowed to be elicited : it
is a question who is to be the examiner, and what will be the state of the nerves
of the individual who is to be examined." He adds, that whilst a violent man
with good nerve often becomes a partisan from the personal and annoying cha-
racter of his examination, and says more than he knows — timid men, on the con-
trary, either give their evidence very insufficiently, or stay away altogether.
Being asked whether he has ever known an instance of an honest witness being
kept back from examination in the prudent management of a cause, he replied,
*^ Many instances ; I have known it done at considerable peril. I have had to
tender, or not to tender, in my own discretion, men of the highest honour, upon
whose veracity I would pledge my life ; but have decided against their produc-
tion, on account of the anxiety I have felt as to what might be the effect of
placing them in the witness-box"'^
On the other hand, another highly respectable solicitor, Mr. T. Hamilton, says
he knows of a case in which *' the plaintiff lost a valuable property from nothing
in the world else but because the interrogatories were previously formed; the
material witness was the solicitor to the defendant, and it was impossible to get
out the whole facts on cross-interrogatories so prepared."! The truth lies, it is
tolerably evident, between the two : to our mind there can be no question of the
value, nay, the indispensableness of cross-examination in courts of justice; the
problem, therefore, to solve is, how the rude, frequently brutal conduct of counsel
is to be restrained, and a witness's feelings and character spared the outrages too
frequently committed on both without the slightest provocation, with no other
object indeed than a reckless determination to misrepresent or to lessen the value
of his evidence, simply because it is unfavourable. Mr. Freshfield's statement at
all events demands consideration, and, if possible, remedy. Surely the Judges
themselves ought to have the power to repress all that tends to the obstruction
of justice, even though it be done on the plea of the advancement of justice; and
might lay down a few simple, well-considered rules for counsel, and enforce their
observance.
With the growth of the canon law there grew up also in connection with it
a race of judges, commentators, and practitioners, at first distinct from the analo-
gous body of persons belonging to the civil law, but gradually becoming even
more closely connected with them than the laws themselves, until at last there
■•'•'• Report on Ec(!le.5. Couits, p. 38. f Ibid. p. 40.
10 LONDON.
remained, in England at least, but one bod}^ the existing Doctors of Civil
Law, who alone have the right of practising as advocates of Doctors' Commons.
The period of the junction of the students in both laws seems to be the Ee-
formation ; before that event degrees were as common in the canon as in the
civil laAV, many persons indeed taking both ; but in the 27th of Henry VIII.
that monarch prohibited the University of Cambridge, and probably of Oxford
also, from having lectures or granting degrees in the canon law. The practice
of the supreme Ecclesiastical Courts must, therefore, have necessarily fallen into
the hands of the doctors of civil law. The founder of what we now call Doctors'
Commons was, according to Maitland, ^' Dr. Henry Harvey, doctor of the civil
and canon law, and master of Trinity Hall in Cambridge, a prebendary of Ely,
and dean (or judge) of the Arches ; a reverend, learned, and good man," who
purchased a house here for the doctors to live in, in common together, hence the
name. This house was burnt down in the Great Fire, and the present building
erected on the site by the members. The doctors, we may observe, still dine
together in a room adjoining the Court, on every court day. The admission of
doctors to practice as advocates is a stately piece of ceremony, the new member
beino- led up the Court by two senior advocates, with the mace borne in front,
and there being much low bowing and reading of Latin speeches. The number
of advocates at present, we believe, is twenty-six ; the difference in the dress
that we perceive among them marlcs them respectively as Cambridge and Oxford
men. The proctors, who are in effect the solicitors of Doctors' Commons, are
also admitted with ceremonials, and have to exhibit their attainments in a similar
manner. Every pains are taken to ensure their respectability. When articled,
at or after the age of fourteen, they must present a certificate from the school-
master as to their progress in classical learning ; they are then articled for seven
years, and a considerable fee is given to the proctors, and as only the senior
proctors are allowed to take such clerks, and to have but two at the same time,
a considerable amount of experience and knowledge of the laws and customs of
Doctors' Commons is ensured. Finally, they can only be admitted to practise as
proctors by presenting a certificate signed by three advocates and three proctors,
stating their fitness. Yet, with all this precaution, there appears to be some-
thing more than suspicion on the minds of some of the respectable witnesses
examined by the commissioners, that there are those among them who — to alter
an old phrase — go the way of all lawyers.
One of the legal beauties of the Ecclesiastical Courts' system is that of appeal;
a system certainly unique for the admirable skill with which it cherishes the
pettiest and weakest cases till they grow into importance and respectability,
raising them gradually, a step at a time, till the litigating combatants, instead of
having their own little town or village coterie for spectators, look around with
amazement at their own grandeur, from the elevation of a supreme metropolitan
court. Mark the advancing stages w^hich a case may have to, and often does,
pass through. First, there are spread through the country two or three hundred
mmor courts, essentially the same in all cases, though bearing a variety of appel-
lations, as peculiars of various descriptions, royal courts, archi-episcopal, episcopal,
decanal, sub-decanal, prebendal, rectorial, vicarial, and a few manorial courts
having similar jurisdiction. This is the base of the edifice, and in one of these
we will suppose a case arises, is heard, and decided, and, being unsatisfactory to
DOCTORS' COMMOTES. 11
one of the parties, is appealed against. This takes us to the first steYJ upwards —
the courts of the archdeacons and others in every diocese^ where the case is again
heard, decided, and appealed against. Of course poor men who cannot afford to
go on appealing against what they may believe to be an unjust decision, may stop
where they please. Far is it, we are sure, from the minds of all parties con-
cerned to wish any poor man to involve himself in expenses that — he cannot pay.
Next we ascend to the Consistorial Courts, one in each diocese, where the Avhole
process of hearing, deciding, and appealing from, proceeds with delightful regu-
larity and steadiness of purpose. The third step is the Chancellor's Court; —
the fourth the metropolitan, say the Court of Arches, and here at least one would
suppose there would be a final pause. By no means, if the losing party have
still hopes of a different decision, or hopes of his adversary's purse or patience
failing. An appeal still lies from the Court of Arches to the Privy Council
at present, formerly to the Court of Delegates at Doctors' Commons, now abo-
lished. That we may not be supposed to have exaggerated — here are two illus-
trations: "There was a case," says Dr. NichoUs, ''in which the cause had
originally commenced in the Archdeacon's Court at Totness, and thence there
had been an appeal to the Court at Exeter, thence to the Arches, and thence to
the Delegates ; after all, the question at issue having been simply, which of two
persons had the right of hanging his hat on a particular peg." The other is of
a sadder cast, and calculated to arouse a just indignation. Our authority is Mr.
S. W. Sweet,* who states — '' In one instance, many years since, a suit was insti-
tuted, which I thought produced a great deal of inconvenience and distress : it
was the case of a person of the name of Russell, whose wife was supposed to have
had her character impugned at Yarmouth by a Mr. Bentham. He had no
remedy at law for the attack upon the lady's character, and a suit for defamation
was instituted in the Commons. It was supposed the suit would be attended
with very little expense, but I believe in the end it greatly contributed to ruin
the party who instituted it ; I think he said his proctor's bill would be 7001.
It went through several courts, and ultimately, I believe [according the decision
or agreement] each party paid his own costs.'' It appears from the evidence
subsequently given by the proctor, that he very humanely declined pressing for
payment, and never was paid ; and yet the case, through the continued anxiety
and loss of time incurred for six or seven years (for the suit lasted that time),
mainly contributed, it appears, to the party's ruin.
Abuses of this kind, with a host of others, it is the object of the bill before
Parliament, introduced by Dr. Nicholl, to sweep away ; and a most gratifying
evidence of the change that has come over the episcopal spirit is to be found in
the fact^ that, effectually as it accomplishes these purposes, great as the sacrifice
thereby made by some of the heads of the Church (one sinecure place, in the
gift of the Archbishop of Canterbury, that is to be abolished, is worth 9000/. a
year), it is to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners of 1832, among whom were the
said Archbishop and six Bishops, that we owe the excellent measure of reform we
are about to describe. But we must first notice, that, in addition to the evils of
a multiplicity of appeals, and those arising from the variety of cases before men-
tioned in which the Church has temporal jurisdiction, and is in consequence fre-
quently made the instrument of petty malice and bad feeling, there is one evil
* Report on Eccles, Courts, jx 17.
12 LONDON.
of still greater magnitude than either :— owing to the numter of minor courts in
which a will may be proved, it is almost impossible to know where to look for
any but a very recent one. And now for the remedy. Dr. NichoU proposes to
divide the exclusively spiritual matters — such as the correction of clerks, and
Church discipline generally — from those which are exclusively temporal, or of a
mixed nature ; the former to be left to the Bishops in their diocesan courts (all
minor courts being abolished), with appeals, first to the Archbishop, and subse-
quently to the Privy Council, — thus '' recognising, even in ecclesiastical matters,
the principle, that over all causes her Majesty's was, in these her dominions,
supreme authority ;" and the latter to be handed over to a new court, to be called
her Majesty's Court of Arches, with a Judge called, as at present, the Dean of
the Arches, but appointed by the Queen, like the other Judges, instead of by the
Archbishop of Canterbury. The advocates and proctors will of course practise
in such new Court, as they do now in the old. The Court is to have no power
to pronounce spiritual censures, consequently all those very peculiar causes
before enumerated will be abolished, except such as may still be commenced
in this Court, and in it only, with the object of asserting or of ascertaining a
civil right. Tithe, and all matters pertaining thereto, are transferred to the
jurisdiction of the general Courts of Law at Westminster. Lastly, the new Court
will have the sole jurisdiction over all testamentary causes throughout the
country, both as a court of trial for causes arising out of such matters, and as a
Court of Registry for the entire kingdom, as all wills are to be proved in it, all
administrations granted by it. This most important and valuable reform is en-
hanced by the care with which the inconveniences that might have attached to
such a system have been anticipated and prevented. The present registry in
every diocese is to be henceforth a branch registry of the Court of Arches, where
all wills of persons dying possessed of personal property below 300/. may be
proved, to save the expense and inconvenience attending journeys to London ;
and then the whole system is perfected by the cross transmission of all copies of
wills proved — on the one hand, from each registry to the Court of Arches ; on
the other, from the Court of Arches (of wills below 300/.) to each registry : so
that at the branches there will be a complete registry for small wills, and at the
chief Court for wills of every class. The country proctors are probably the only
persons injured by the measure, and that injury is lessened by the opening of
the new London Court to such of them as may think proper to practise there for
the future. In the procedure of this Court great improvements are to be intro-
duced : viva voce evidence may be received in Court, at the discretion of the Judge ;
and, in certain cases, there may be a trial by jury. Such is a brief outline of
the measure now before Parliament.
There is one other Court of Doctors' Commons yet to be mentioned— the High
Court of Admiralty. How this came to be joined to the Ecclesiastical Courts
we do not find anywhere stated, but it arose most probably from the circumstances
before pointed out — the connection between the civil and canon laws : as the
Arches and other Courts have been chiefly governed by the one, so has the
Admiralty by the other. Its jurisdiction is divided into two parts— that of the
Instance Court, and that of the Prize Court. The Prize Court evidently applies
but to a state of war, when all naval captures pass through it. Its '' end," says
Lord Mansfield, in one of his tersest passages, '' is to suspend the property till
DOCTORS' COMMONS. 13
condemnation ; to punish every sort of misbehaviour in the captors ; to restore
instantly, if, upon the most summary examination, there does not appear suffi-
cient ground; to condemn finally, if the goods really are prize, against everybod}^,
giving everybody a fair opportunity of being heard."* The Instance Court has
a criminal and civil jurisdiction. To the former belong piracy, and other indict-
able offences committed on the high seas, which are now tried at the Old Bailey ;
to the latter, all the cases which form the ordinary business of the Court, such as
suits arising from ships running foul of each other, disputes about seamen's
wages, bottomry, and salvage — that is, the allowance due to those who have saved
or recovered ships, or property in ships, from maritime dangers. The position
of the Judge of the Admiralty is a peculiar one : in peace having little to do — in
war, all but overwhelmed : it is also in the highest degree onerous. Peace or
war may continually depend upon his decisions in matters where foreign nations
are concerned; for instance, *' in cases of embargoes, and the provisional de-
tention of vessels : in such cases an incautious decision might involve the country
in war." f Nay, at the present moment that very question is in agitation (and
may again come before the Court through some sudden, possibly accidental, cir-
cumstance), which formed so important a feature in the last war Avith America —
the right of search; for, unfortunately. Sir John Nicholl's remark, that ''the
decisions of the great mind (Lord Stowell's) at the head of the Admiralty Court
at that time have pretty much settled these questions to the satisfaction of the
whole world,"J appears just now to be anything but correct. Yet if any one mind
in such a position could have settled that or any still weightier question, it would
have been the admirable Judge referred to, who sat in this Court through the
most eventful period of the last great war, in the course of which he had to
deal with almost every question of international law ; but to him might be ap-
plied Shakspere's well-known passage on Henry V. : —
"Turn him to any cause of policy,
The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,
Familiar as his garter :"
And the proof of it is the statement made by Sir Herbert Jenner, and other dis-
tinguished persons, in the highest degree calculated to form a correct opinion,
that Lord Stowell's decisions at that period have since formed a code of inter-
national law, almost universally recognised. The amount of his labours was no
less remarkable than its character. In one year (18C6) he pronounced 2206
decrees. It can be hardly expected that to such praise there should be anything
remarkable to add, and yet there is. Lord Stowell's style is a study not alone for
his legal brethren of all classes, many of whom, it must be acknowledged, sadly
need such a proof of the possibility of being at once learned and intelligible, but
for all who can enjoy genuine and racy English. Looking over Haggart's reports
of his decisions, we were struck by the case he gives of the ship ' Minerva ;' and
though many might be found better calculated to illustrate the qualities of Lord
Stowell's matter and manner, it is not without value in those points, as well as
being in itself interesting. Sailors are '' the favourites of the law," says Lord
■'■' Douglas's Reports, p. 572.
f Sir Herbert Jenner's Evidence. Report on Admiralty Courts, 1833, p. 36.
I Report, 1833, p. 20.
14 LONDON.
Stowell, in the judgment we are about to quote, " on account of their imbecility,
and placed particularly under its protection:" the judgment in the ' Minerva'
suit is a practical exemplification of this rule. It appears '' the crew of the ' Mi-
nerva' had been engaged on a contract to go from London to New South Wales,
and India, or elsewhere, and to return to a port in Europe." The words marked in
Italics were said by the crew to have been subsequently added, who, in consequence,
eventually left the vessel, and on their return were refused the wages they conceived
themselves entitled to. The rest of their curious history Lord Stowell himself
relates : — " Now upon this balance of evidence, as I have intimated, I strongly
incline to hold, that these words did not compose any part of the text of the ori-
ginal contract ; but if they did, I have no hesitation in asserting, that they are
not to be taken in that indefinite latitude in which they are expressed : they are
no description of a voyage ; they are an unlimited description of the navigable
globe; and are not to be admitted as a universal alibi for the whole world,
includino- the most remote and even pestilential shores, indefinite otherwise both
in space and time : they must receive a reasonable construction — a construction
which I readily admit must be, to a certain extent, conformable to the necessities
of commerce ; for I hope that few men's minds are more remote than mine from
a wish to encourage any wayward opposition in seamen to those necessities, or to
the fair and indispensable indulgence which such necessities require ; for no class
of men is more interested in supporting the maritime commerce of the country
than these persons themselves : but the entire disadvantage must not be thrown
upon them ; the owners must make tlieir sacrifices as well as the mariners
I come now to the evidence of other material facts. On landing the cargo at
Port Jackson, the crew, as I have already observed, expressed their extreme
disappointment at the change made in their destination [which they had just
learned], in breach of the articles which they had subscribed. They are threat-
ened by the Captain, who is certainly a person of lofty prerogative notions, who
claims the right to carry them, and says he can and will carry them, Avherever
he pleases, even to hell itself, a very favourite place of consignment in his judg-
ment. The only choice presented to these men was between a prison and a con-
tinuance in the ship ; for such is the law and justice of that country, that it seems
no other option is allowed to a seaman : whether he quit his ship for a just cause
or none at all — that is neA^er subject of inquiry. In the choice of things, they
elect the ship, reserving to them.selves, as they had an undoubted right to do,
their demand for legal redress in the justice of their country, for such it appears
was the general theme of conversation amongst them. They remained on board,
performing their duty ; and even if this had not been a compelled preference, it
would not have deprived them of that resort. The articles were violated and
remained so, though they elected, under all circumstances, to remain in the ship
under the forced deviation. A voyage was commenced upon, a course of experi-
ments to procure a cargo. From Port Jackson they proceeded in search of a
cargo to New Zealand, where not a man ventured to land for fear of being made
a meal's meat of by the cannibal inhabitants, as they were represented to be.
From hence they take an enormous flight to Valparaiso, in the South Seas, where
they take on board what the Master will not allow to be a cargo, but only part of a
cargo ; and the ship then proceeds to Lima, where nothing is done, and thence
DOCTORS' COMMONS. 15
a fresh flight to Otaheite, at neither of which places does this voyage of experi-
ment afford any articles of cargo. From this last place the Master bends his
course back to Sidney Cove, and after selling the partial cargo taken in at Val-
paraisoj and receiving payment for the same, they then procured a cargo, which
they carried to Calcutta, for which place they ought to have proceeded origi-
nally. They landed the cargo, and were occupied in taking on board a cargo
' for England, the men all this time, with all apparent diligence and alacrity, dis-
charging their duty. On two Sundays, days usually of repose and indulgence,
they were employed ; yet no necessity is shown for denying the usual remission
of labour. It is also stated, that on the third Sunday they had hoped to obtain
the usual indulgence. On that morning, however, at a very early hour, a great
quantity of hides having been brought to the ship, they set to work at five
o'clock in the morning, to obtain the indulgence of going on shore in the after-
noon, and finished their stowage of hides by one o'clock, and then sat down to
dinner in that warm climate, solacing themselves with the prospect of obtaining
the long-expected indulgence of going on shore ; but instead, they were in-
formed that they must go to work in the afternoon of the same day wherein they
had worked so many hours, to stow the hides more completely, which they had
put into the hold with so much labour during six hours of the morning. They
requested the indulgence which they had promised themselves, upon the faith
of the usual practice and of their meritorious exertions in the morning, and ap-
plied to the Caj^tain personally and respectfully for that purpose ; but received
the usual answer of a refusal, expressed in the usual terms of a reference to the
favourite place of consignment to which I have alluded. Upon this refusal of
the Captain, who himself immediately afterwards proceeded to the shore, they
followed his example In the evening they stated their case to the Town
Serjeant, including the great original grievance, of an entire defeazance of the
ship's articles by the compelled ramble to New Zealand and the distant ports of
the South Sea. The Magistrates issue a summons to the Captain to appear and
answer to the complaint. After consultations both private and public with the
Captain, the Magistrates appear to act upon the same principle of law as that
which prevails at Sidney Cove — that when a seaman quits a ship, he is only to
make his election between the ship and the House of Correction. The sailors
unwillingly repair to their ship, but are absolutely refused admittance by order
of the Captain, which amounts nearly to a dismissal, and they return to the
shore, where they are committed by the magistrates to the House of Correction
for 25 days ; at the end of that time they are taken in the police boat and put
on board the ship, when they collect their clothes and hammocks, which they
carry off with them to the shore. Unfounded and unsupported charges of having
stolen the ship's hammocks are dismissed by the magistrates, as is likewise ano-
ther equally unsupported charge of having neglected to clear the hawser, a
duty which had never been imposed upon them. The mariners' case ends with
their acceptance, after a month's interval, of stations on board another ship about
to proceed for England, at nearly a double rate of wages to that which they would
have been entitled to if they had continued onboad the ' Minerva.' " Our space
will not allow us to transcribe any of the kindly and philosophical remarks with
which the judgment is studded, we can only give the conclusion : — *' Upon
16
LONDON.
the whole, I do with satisfaction of mind "pronounce for the wages and the
expenses." *
We may observe, in conclusion, that the name of the Court so often referred
to, and which after declining for centuries is now in all probability about again
to become important, is derived from the arches below Bow Church, Cheapside,
to which edifice they also give name. These arches and their supporting pillars
are very interesting to the antiquary, not only from the facts already stated,
but from their great antiquity. They are of Norman origin, and were probably
built during the reign of the Conqueror, perhaps by himself, who, as we have
already seen, founded the earliest Ecclesiastical Courts in this country, and most
likely that of the Arches, as being the Archbishop's, first of all. Stow could find
no evidence of the date of its establishment, or when it first sat at Bow Church ;
but there seems little doubt that it is cceval, or nearly so, with the ancient
arches, and has never been removed from their vicinity till our own times. The
Court of Arches was occasionally held here even down to the year 1825, if not
later, in the part that now forms the vestry, the subject of the following en-
graving. The original connection between the Church and the Court we pre-
sume to be this : — the parish of St. Mary-lc-Bow is the chief of the thirteen
parishes in the City which are called peculiars, forming a Deanery exempt from
the jurisdiction of the Bishop of London, and attached to that of the Archbishop
of Canterbury. Hence also the name of the Judge — Dean of the Arches.
[Vestry-room, formerly Court of Arclies, St. Mary-le-Bow.]
Haggcart's Reports of Cases determined in the High Court of Admiralty, vol. i. p. 317.
[The Temple Church from the South.]
CII.--THE TEMPLE CHURCH. No. II,
ITS RESTORATION.
One of the most curious and interesting facts in the history of the human
mind is the peculiar mode of its progression : — its alternating rise and fall— the
preliminary retreat before every great advance, as if to derive fresh strength
and impetus for the spring. And whatever the path, this characteristic still pre-
sents itself. In religion. Pagan Rome did not change to Christian Rome, and the
worship of the One God, till the believers in a multitude of deities had passed
through the worse state of practical disbelief in any : in philosophy or morality,
the Divine voice that taught the essence of both, in the words " Love one
another," was first heard, and received into men's hearts, at a time when the
Grecian and Roman conquerors, by their vast organized systems of slaughter,
devastation, and pillage, had well nigh banished the very ideas of humanity and
justice from the world, and made philosophy a by-word of scorn : in science,
literature, and art — the great ones of antiquity found fitting successors in such
men as (to refer only to our own country) Roger Bacon and Chaucer — the artists
of their temples in the artists of our early ecclesiastical churches, but what a
VOL. V. c
jy LONDON.
miglity and almost unfathomable gulf divided them— the dark ages, as we call
a long period— centuries in which the light was certainly not that of noon- clay.
Yet, with all this, who doubts that progression is Nature's law— that we have
j)rogressed— that we shall continue so to do, however undulating or indirect the
road ? To apply these remarks to the subject that suggested them :— it may be
observed, then, that Gothic architecture has had, for the last three or four centu-
ries, a dark age of its own, from which it is now emerging; and that there needs
only some decided impulse to be given to the public taste, in order not simply
to restore what has been, but, in accordance with the law we have referred to,
probably to enable us to make a still farther advance. Such an impulse, it is
not unlikely, will be given by the restoration of the Temple Church,
And why the Temple in particular ? it may be asked : the grand combina-
tions of nave and aisles, choir and transepts, chapels and porches, lofty spires
and mighty towers, into one magnificent whole, are already familiar to us in
connection with our cathedrals : has the Temple Church anything to offer at once
superior to these, and new ? Certainly not : the answer is, that, for the first
time, we see in it what a Gothic building really ^vas — a structure as pre-emi-
nent for its rich harmonies of colour as for its beauty of architectural detail and
grandeur of architectural design. Let those who have not seen the Temple
think what such decorations must have been in the hands of the authors of our
cathedrals to be worthy of both, and they will scarcely overrate the value of what
the Benchers of the Temple have just restored to us, with a truly princely
liberality.
The view we have given of the exterior renders description unnecessary ; we
will therefore only remark how strikingly accordant is its character with the cha-
racter of its founders ; who, accustomed to the union of fortress and church in the
East, where it was most necessary that they should be at all times prepared to
defend themselves from the Saracens, seem to have been unable or unwilling to
lose the same associations, even when at home among their own Christian coun-
trymen. Perhaps, too, there may have been a little pride in the matter: they
were not disinclined to remind those countrymen of what they had done, and
were, at the period of the erection, still doing for the cause of Christ, as they
deemed it. To examine the eastern front, the only front the church possesses,
the spectator must pass round the pile of buildings that is seen in our en-
graving thrusting itself upon the oblong portion and obstructing the view.
Before we leave the exterior, we must notice the differences of style which
prevail in the Rotunda and the Chancel— differences which are connected with a
feature of the Temple Church that makes it one of the most interesting and
valuable structures we possess, apart from any other attractions. ^' No building
in existence," says Mr. Cottingham, " so completely develops the gradual and
delicate advance of the pointed style over the Norman as this church, being
commenced in the latter, and finished in the highest perfection of the former :"
already, in this exterior, and more particularly in the comparative lightness of
those Norman windows, we can trace one of the stajres of the advance. We now
descend the steps of the porch, that strange, low, shut-in corner which forms the
principal entrance —grown, however, larger-looking of late -, and the deeply
recessed, broad, semicircular Norman doorway is before us, with its foliated
THE TEMPLE CHURCH. 19
capitals and other carved ornaments, exhibiting another stage in the architec-
tural progress. Most elaborately rich and beautiful it is, too, with its numerous
pillars below, and circular wreaths above, its sculptured heads and half figures,
where, mingled together, we see kings and queens, and pious monks at prayer. It
is often thought, by those best qualified to appreciate the spirit in which our ecclesi-
astical artists worked, that in all they did there was a higher object than that of
merely fulfilling the ordinary requisitions of art, even though that were so admira-
bly accomplished. What, for instance, can be finer than the entrance through this
low and comparatively dark porch into the light and airy upward sweep of the
Rotunda, with the vista opening beyond through the chancel? How it in
every way enhances them, and more particularly in size, the precise feature
which it was most desirable to enhance."^ But was this all ? Had not the
architect a still greater design in view when he built this lowly porch ? did he
not desire to suggest that lowliness of spirit with which man should enter the
house of his Maker — was it not an emphatic direction to the haughty and stiff-
necked, the ambitious and the powerful, that they were all as nothing here —
that they must stooj) in spirit as they passed through this gateway ? Above all,
was it not to remind them to whom all the splendour beyond was dedicated — that
the lofty arches and fretted roof were His, not theirs — that if their hearts swelled,
it should be with penitence, and hope, and reverential love, not with vain self-
gratulation?
But it is time we enter; and as we do so, we may notice, in passing, with what
admirable judgment the transition from the dull commonplace buildings of the
neighbourhood, up to the scene of consummate splendour that surrounds the
altar at the distant extremity, and which is already attracting our eyes towards
it, has been managed : first, there is the richly-sculptured, but uncoloured and
therefore quiet-looking gateway ; next comes the Round, with the black marble
pillars relieved against the light colour of the surrounding walls, the single
painted window facing us as we look upwards, and the various-coloured roof with
its light blue cinquefoils spotting the delicate ground all over it, the deep red
borders following and marking the airy play of the groinings, and the central
ornament with its large blue flowers and gilded boss set in a circular frame-work
of decoration ; lastly, there is the view onward into the chancel, where the roof,
thrown into such fine perspective, draws the eye unresistingly along a maze of the
most delicately beautiful but glowing hues, which seem, at every fresh crossing
of the arches, to grow more and more intense : it is hard to resist the impulse
of at once stepping forward and throwing one's self into it, to luxuriate heart and
soul on so novel and captivating a scene ; but it is better to proceed regularly :
we will first examine what is immediately about us. We are in the far-famed
Round, and shall find it no difificult matter to pause awhile.
In our former paper on the Temple Church t we gave an engraving of the
valuable and well-known efifigies preserved in it. These had become so greatly
injured by time, neglect, and by attentions of a kind infinitely worse than neglect,
* Dimensions of tlie chinch : Rotunda, 58 feet in dianeter; Chancel, 82 feet in length, 58 in width, 37 iu
hel^rht.
t No. LXX., ' The Temple Church : its History and Associations.
e2
20 LONDON.
that all their minute and beautiful details of sculpture and costume were lost ;
and they were also extensively mutilated and fractured ; in consequence, it was
difficult to determine what could be done with them in the recent restoration. It
was painful to see them in so unworthy a state, and at the same time it was
feared they were too far gone for any process of re-edification. Mr. Edward
Richardson, however, a sculptor, undertook to experimentalize on the worst^ — and
perhaps originally the most beautiful of the figures : the one here on the right,
nearest the central walk, of the second pair. Setting out with the principle of
adhering rigidly to the idea of restoration of that which could be proved to have
existed — not of making what he might fancy ought to have existed — he deter-
mined, as he has kindly explained to us, to remove no portion of the surface,
however isolated or small, except in extreme cases of necessity, and that he
would supply none of the missing parts except on the most precise authority
drawn from the effigies themselves : which he hoped to find. He set to work
in the following manner : — First, with a finely-pointed tool he removed the
crust of paint, whitewash, and dirt that enveloped the effigy, which in parts was a
quarter of an inch thick; the tediousness of this operation may be judged when
we state that the surface he was so careful not to injure was more like a honey-
comb in many parts than any surface that had been originally smooth. He now
found, as he had anticipated, ample evidence of the character of those little but
valuable points of costume and expression which had been unintelligible before.
The next thing was to secure the original surface from further decay (to which
the exposure to air would have made it peculiarly liable), by forcing into the
stone some chemical preparation, which hardened in the pores. All the minute
holes were now stopped with a cement which perfectly imitated the material of
the effigy ; the artist, as he well expresses it, working in this manner from "■ sur-
face to surface " over the whole. There remained but to add the missing por-
tions, which, among others, included the lower part of the legs and feet : this was
done in the same material as the effigy, and joined by the cement. The result
may be told by the order issued by the Benchers to Mr. Richardson, to restore
the whole of the effigies; or, still better, in the words of an eminent architect, who
observed, when he beheld it in its present state, " The public will never believe
that this has been a mere restoration."'^ Thus these effigies, which are the best
authorities we possess for military costume from the reign of Stephen to that
of Henry III. — which are as works of art so surprising, that one of our greatest
sculptors said the other day he could not understand how they could have been
executed in that period — and which, lastly, are so interesting in their connection
with the early history of the building, and with that greater liistory in which
some of them at least figured so conspicuously, are restored to us in their habits
as they lived : for there is no doubt whatever that such representations were
accurately imitated from the countenance, figure, and garb of the originals.
One only exception has to be made — absence of colour. It was discovered in the
process of restoration, that the figures had been all more or less painted ; some
only slightly, so as to relieve the sculpture, but one of them, the effigy of Wil-
liam Pembroke the younger, was richly coloured throughout, having a surcoat of
* Mr. Richardson is preparing for publication elaborate drawings of the effigies in Iheir restored state.
THE TEMPLE CHURCH. 21
crimson, armour of gold, and a cushion or pillow enamelled with glass. The
effigies, when first placed in the church, lay side by side in one broad row
across the central avenue, their heads towards the east, as was proved by the
interesting discovery of the coffins in the recent excavations. These were eight
in number ; six of them lead, the others stone of immense size. There was a
beautiful carved cross on one of the latter. Other discoveries, not without
interest, were made at the same time. In noticing the history of Geoffrey
de Magnaville, in our former paper, we stated that, on account of his
dying excommunicated, the Templars, who attended him on his death-bed,
not daring to bury him in consecrated ground, hung his coffin on a tree
in their garden till absolution was obtained, and then buried him in the porch
before the western door ; and there he was recently found ; for there can be no
doubt that one of the two broken sarcophagi discovered beneath the pavement
of the porch was his. Fragments of a third sarcophagus were also discovered
just .within the doorway crossing beneath the walk of the aisle. The arrangement
of the effigies was a matter ot much consideration and experiment before their
present position was decided on. They now lie four on each side the central
avenue, and parallel with it, in a double line ; those on the right being, first,
William Marshall, the younger, sheathing his sv/ord, one of the bold barons who
made John alternately shiver with fear and burn with rage ; then, by his side
beyond him, his great father, the Protector Pembroke, his sword piercing the
head of the animal at his feet. Passing on to the second pair, foremost is the ex-
ceedingly graceful but unknown figure before mentioned, on which the restoring
process was first tried ; and the second, another son of Pembroke's, Gilbert Mar-
shall, in the act of drawing his sword. The probable feeling of the artist in this
gesture is very beautiful. His father and his brother were men who had per-
formed great things, and it is easy to see that their respective gestures are meant
to signify as much ; but Gilbert, when on the eve of going to the Holy Land,
was killed by the accident of his being thrown by a runaway horse at a tourna-
ment in 1241, which he himself instituted in defiance of the mandates of
Henry HI. : the sculptor, therefore, desired to show what he would have done
but for his premature decease. Of the four corresponding figures on the left
three are unknown, and the fourth is that of De Magnaville, the burly warrior in
front of the western pair. The remaining effigy, an exquisitely beautiful work,
is that of Lord de Eos, another of the barons to whom we owe Magna Charta :
this lies on the extreme right against the wall of the aisle, but in the same
central line of the church as the other figures, whilst in a corresponding po-
sition on the extreme left is the coped stone shown in the engraving before re-
ferred to.
Let us now step from the central to the side walks, or, rather, from the Round
into the lower-roofed aisle which surrounds it, and, having marked the stately
marble pillars which rise at intervals to support the groined roof with its gilded
bosses ; the stone seat on which these pillars are based, and which runs along the
bottom of the wall throughout the entire church (no doubt the only seat to be
found here in olden times) ; having admired the low but richly-sculptured arcade
also rising from the seat, and stamping lightness and beauty on the wall above,
where the pointed arches, and pillars with Norman capitals to support them,
22 LONDON.
show once more the progress of the struggle between the styles, and the ap-
proachin^r victory of the former; then the heads which decorate this arcade : — but
here, as the eye runs along the row, it is at once arrested by the startling
countenances which meet its glance, and by the endless variety that they
exhibit. Ao*ain and again do we perambulate the entire circle of the aisle, for
they also accompany it the whole distance, to gaze upon those novel, expressive,
and powerfully characteristic faces. Setting out from the doorway along the left
aisle, we presently come to one (the seventh) that, once beheld, is never to be
forgotten : anything so intensely full of agony, so ghastly in its horror, we never
beheld. Then, to notice only the more remarkable of those countenances which
pass before our eyes, we have those of a pale student; a female of distorted
beauty ; a cynic full of suffering, but expressing at the same lime his marvellous
contempt for it ; a head on which an animal has fastened and is tearing the ear ;
a jester; numerous serio-comic indescribables one after another; a fine placid
philosopher, with a look, however, of earnest surprise ; horned arid demoniac
grotesques ; and against the wall of the archway leading into the left aisle of the
chancel, a female with the most touching expression of grief and utter desolation
conceivable ; you feel the tears are falling, though you do not see them : it is
evidently a mother enduring some more than mortal anguish. Such is the left
half-circle of this wondrous sculpturesque phantasmagoria. Crossing to the
right, and so back again along that half circle to the door, we find a striking and
unsatisfactory change. The heads have in numerous instances little of the pecu-
liar qualities of those we have noticed ; a circumstance partly explained by the
modern interpolations visible at a glance among them, and still more by the
answers given to our inquiries on the subjects of these heads. It appears that at
the time of an earlier repair of the Round (1825 — 1827) many of the heads were
greatly decayed, and here and there some entirely missing. It is w^orthy of
notice how the restorers of that day acted in comparison with the restorers of
this. First, an able mechanic, but without the slightest pretension to artistical
skill and knowledge, was set to work on the heads of the side last mentioned, and
tlicy were copied as we now see them. Some little attention had probably been
called to the subject in the mean time, and the consequence was, that the restora-
tion of those on the opposite or north side was conducted with greater care, but
still it was thought quite unnecessary that a sculptor should touch them. That
done, of course the old heads seemed to the parties of no further use, so they
went off to the builder's yard, bad, good, and indifferent, and were there used —
will it be believed? — as cart-wheel crutches; that is, to put under the wheels
occasionally to prevent their slipping backwards. Such was the result of
the inquiries made after them during the recent restoration of the
Church ! And now as to the general idea of the sculptor in these heads.
It is impossible to go carefully through those on the north side without
perceiving that, with but few exceptions, they all express an idea of pain,
varying from the lowest animal manifestations up to the highest and
most intellectual. On the south side, on the contrary, the predominant expres-
sion is placid or serene ; and those of a different character, which are of original
design, were probably removed from the opposite side, and the very ones sub-
stituted from this side, which there form so marked and corresponding an excep-
THE TEMPLE CHURCH. 23
tion to their neighbours. But many of these are evidently not of original design,
but copied, in ignorance not merely of the sculptor's object, which might have
been excusable enough, but in opposition to the manifest rule that all the heads
should be different. Thus, in the centre of the north side, are three heads — a
queen, some merry personage, and then a king. The expression of the king's
countenance is very fine, and in harmony with the gloomy character of his nume-
rous companions ; whilst his queen's, on the contrary, has almost a simper upon it.
Crossing to exactly the opposite spot on the south side, we find a precisely similar
group, only that both king and queen are here accordant and serene — evidently
showing, apart from the similarity of the queenly faces, that the other queen has
been copied from this, to fill up a vacant space, which the restorer knew not how
else to fill. And what is the idea that we think these heads were intended to con-
vey, and which, if perfect, and arranged as we believe them to have been, they
would now convey to every one ? — It is that of Purgatory on the one side, and
the relief from it, by the prayers and intercessions of the Church, on the other.
It may be thought some corroboration of this supposition to point out that the
lofty corbel heads, one on each side the wall of the entrances into the aisles of the
chancel, which are original, are so decidedly and carefully contrasted as to make
it certain the sculptor had some idea of the kind indicated. The peace that
passes all understanding is as unmistakably stamped on the head on one side
of the arch, as the unendurable agony of eternal torture is on that on the other.
In both arches the condemned faces are Saracenic : of course mere Purgatory
was not enough for them. A curious, and, to artists at least, an interestino- dis-
covery, looked at in connection with the frequent custom of the Greeks even
in the purest period of sculpture, was made during the restoration : some
of the heads just mentioned had glass beads inserted for eyes. We may ob-
serve, in concluding our notice of the heads in the Rotunda, that the best of
them are evidently bad copies of masterly originals — giving us the character
and expression, which could not be well missed, though they have no doubt been
sufficiently adulterated, and giving us no more. We may see how much we have
lost in the exchange by a glance at the only other original head, of the beautiful
little seraph with flowing hair, on the corner of the wall between the Rotunda
and the south aisle. This was discovered but a week before the openino- of the
church. Traces of colour are still perceptible ; and we learn from Mr. Richardson
that the cheeks had been delicately tinged with the natural hue, the lips with
vermilion, the pupil of the eye with blue, whilst the hair had been gilded. It
was, as usual, thickly encrusted with layer upon layer of paint, dirt, and
whitewash, so thickly indeed as to have escaped discovery till the period men-
tioned. But such was the state of the building generally only two short years ao-o.
As we now turn from one beautiful and stately object to another, with a growing
sense of delight, to see how the parts and the whole mutually harmonise with and
enhance each other, it is difficult to recall the medley scene they have displaced.
The painted window above was not then in existence, and that exceedino-ly ele-
gant sculptured wheel-window over the entrance was closed up ; the roof was flat
and the groining of the aisles was concealed in whitewash ; every marble pillar
(then unknown to be marble) the same; monumental barbarisms of the worst
periods of English sculpture (now happily removed to the triforium above) were let
24
LONDON.
into the very body of the pillars, and also encumbered the arches ; the noble three-
fold entrance, from the Kound to the chancel, instead of enhancing— by the mo-
mentary interruption of the view, and by the new combinations at the same time
formed— the superior architectural beauty we are approaching, as at present, was
most carefully hidden by a glass screen extending right across ; and above, in the
central archway, was the organ revelling in classical decorations ; lastly, the very
bases of the pillars in the chancel were entirely hidden by the great pews, and
the pavement of the church throughout was considerably higher than the original
[The Temple Church from the Entrance.]
level. On examination of the pillars in the Round, when they had been clcaneil,
it was found that they were so decayed that new ones were indispensable ; and
great as the expense necessarily was, the Benchers determined to make no un-
worthy shifts, but to replace them as they ought to be replaced. Accordingly a
person was sent to Purbeck to make arrangements for the opening once more of
its celebrated quarries. This little circumstance shows the spirit in which the
THE TEMPLE CHURCH. 25
Benchers undertook and carried on their task. As to the pavement, it was found,
on digging down to the original level, that it had been formerly tessellated ; and,
in consequence, we have got rid of the staple ornament for modern churches,
when we wanted to make them very fine, as at St. Paul's — the black and white
checquer — and have obtained this warm and beautiful surface instead, formed of
encaustic tiles. The ground is a dark-red or chocolate, but so elaborately covered
with the amber or yellowish ornaments, as to make the latter the prevailing hue.
The patterns form, first, divisions of various breadth (the widest in the centre of
the central avenue), extending, side by side, from the entrance-door to the
farthest end of the chancel: within each division there is no alteration of pattern,
but the divisions themselves, as compared with each other, present considerable
differences. The two most striking are those next to the broad central one,
where, as we pace along, we have the lamb on one side of us, and the winged
horse on the other — the emblems of the two Societies to which the church belongs.
The former is founded on the device of St. John ; the latter, it is supposed, on
the interesting story related in a former paper, of the poverty of the Knight
Templars at the outset of their career, when two knights rode one horse. Among
the other ornaments of the pavement are a profusion of linked-tailed animals in
heraldic postures : lions, cocks, and foxes ; tigers, with something very like mail
upon their shoulders ; basilisks, and other grotesques. There are also copies of
designs of Anglo-Saxon origin — as figures playing musical instruments; and one
illustrative of the story of Edward the Confessor — the Evangelist John and the
ring — a design which at once tells us from whence the materials for the pavement
have been borrowed, namely, the Chapter House, Westminster Abbey. The
pavement formed by the tiles is as strong and imperishable as it is beautiful. The
tiles are perforated all over with small holes on the under side, consequently when
they are laid on the cement prepared to receive them, and pressed down, the
latter rises into these perforations, and, hardening there, binds the whole indis-
solubly together.
It is a remarkable and somewhat happy coincidence, although one that does
not seem to have been yet noticed, that the revival of the art of decorating our
public buildings should have been begun in that very church where it is highly
probable the art may have been first witnessed in all its splendour in England,
but which, at all events, was founded by men who were among the introducers of
that art into this country. When the Crusaders returned from the Holy Land,
we know that they brought with them a confirmed taste for Eastern magnifi-
cence. *' Barbaric pearl and gold" had not been showered before their eyes in
vain ; and among the Crusaders, the Knights Templars, rude as was the simplicity
in which they delighted at the outset of their career, great as was their then con-
tempt for luxury and wealth, very much altered their minds, to say the least of
it, after a few visits to the Holy Land. To this circumstance doubtless may be
attributed the Eastern character of the decorations of the period, as on the dome
here above us, for instance.* Our ecclesiastics, being at perfect liberty to hang
* It maybe observed here, once for allj tnat the decorations througnout the church are strictly in accoraance with
•the period of the erection.
26 LONDON.
up, as in yonder archway, a Saracenic head or two in terrorern to all infidels, and
as a kind of preliminary counterbalance, would no doubt accept, and turn to their
own purposes, and, we must own, we think very sensibly, whatever infidel genius
might have sent them across the seas. They who knew so well the effect of
appealing to man's entire rather than to his partial nature only were not
hkely to reject any means that offered. From the moment he entered the
sacred building, they took possession at once of his eye, ear, heart, and mind ;
and no wonder that afterwards they could turn him towards what point they
pleased of the theological heaven. Of course this was a glorious field for
abuses, and abuses sprung up with a strength and luxuriance that not only over-
powered the flowers Art had strewed abroad, but almost concealed the goodly
temple of Religion itself. Then it was that the early Church reformers arose in
their streno-th, one by one. The " sour" Puritans, as in our one-sided vision we
call them, because, seeing the Herculean task before them, they went to their work
with the hands and heart of a Hercules, cutting away, might and main, on all
sides; marking every step with their blood, as they waged unequal war with the
multitudes ready to defend what they sought to destroy, but still pressing on till
the whole— confession and indulgence, bulls, pardons, and relics, or by whatever
name the noxious growths were known — were rooted up; — and with them the
flowers went too. Well, we have at last a pure soil to raise them upon once
more ; for the successors of the Puritans (a thousand times worse than them, for
they debased art, whilst the others at worst only kept it in abeyance) have gone
into the same final receptacle of all error — oblivion. And so, commending the
fine passage here following, from the writings of an eminent Protestant divine, to
the consideration of those, if there are any such, who still doubt the value, in a
spiritual sense, of such exhibitions as the Temple Church now affords, we shall
proceed forward into the scene that for the last hour has been drawing our eyes,
at intervals, most wistfully towards it. Bishop Home says, " We cannot by our
gifts profit the Almighty, but we may honour him, and profit ourselves; for,
while man is man, religion, like man, must have a body and a soul : it must be
external as well as internal ; and the two parts, in both cases, will ever have a
mutual influence upon each other. The senses and the imagination must have a
considerable share in public worship ; and devotion will accordingly be depressed
or heightened by the mean, sordid, and dispiriting, or the fair, splendid, and
cheerful appearance of the objects around us."
We could hardly suggest a better way of preventing the imagination of a
reader from conceiving the true character and effect of the oblong portion
of the Temple Church than by giving a careful and accurate architectural
description, the process would be so unlike that Avhich informs the spec-
tator who is on the spot. The view impressed at once upon the eye of the
latter is what is desiderated for the former — is what words of the most
general, rapid, and suggestive character can very inadequately convey— and is
what systematic description cannot give at all. We need hardly, therefore, say
we shall not attempt the latter course; and as to the alternative, we cannot but
feel how such glowing and various beauty as that before us becomes chilled in
the very attempt to resolve it into words. Yet, if the imagination can be stirred
THE TEMPLE CHURCH. 27
by external influences, it should be, indeed, active here. As we enter, let us step
into the corner on the right. The first impression is of a mingled nature : a sense of
the stateliest architectural magnificence, supporting and enveloped by the richest
and most playful combinations of fairy-like beauty of decoration, each lending to
each its own characteristics in the making of so harmonious a whole. Thus, the
marble pillars, of a dark rich hue, beautifully veined, seem to flow rather than to
tower upwards to meet the gay but delicate arabesqued roof, until, above the
capitals, they suddenly expand their groins like so many embracing arms all
over it, receiving at the same time from the roof a sprinkling of its own rich
store of hues. See, too, how those magnificent arches, spanning so airily the
wide space from pillar to pillar, and viewed from hence under so many combina-
tions of near and remote — aisle, centre and aisle — those Atlases of the struc-
ture, see how content they are to serve as frameworks for the pictures seen
through and above them, and, like all true strength, to look only the more grace-
ful in their strength for the flowery chains which have been twined around them.
The entire architecture of the Church, indeed, which is esteemed " decidedly the
most exquisite specimen of pointed architecture existing," seems to give one the
idea of its having thrown off* the air of antiquity which time has not unnatu-
rally imparted to it, and to start into a second youth, lustrous with all those pecu-
liar graces which youth alone possesses. The lancet windows of the opposite
side, beautiful alike in themselves and in relation to the architecture around, but
undecorated, alone fail to add their tones to the general glow of splendour;
though they still look so beautiful that one could fancy they borrowed a reflec-
tion from the latter ; and, as we turn to the perfect blaze of colours and gilding
at the cast end of the chancel, it might be supposed that the wealth that would
have been reasonably sufficient for the whole of the windows, has been concen-
trated in those three at the sides of and above the altar. In examining the
smaller parts of which this sumptuous whole is composed, the attention again is
naturally attracted first to the ceiling, as was no doubt the case originally; for,
in taking down the plaster and paint covering, not only were traces of decorative
painting found, but also rich ornaments worked in gold and silver. The chief
objects which stand out from the elaborate but everywhere light and grace-
ful arabesques are the small circular compartments scattered over the entire roof,
one in each of the natural divisions formed by the groins, and containing alter-
nately the lamb on a red ground and the flying horse on a blue. These arc
varied in the aisle, where we see the banner half black and half white, '' because
they [the Templars] were and showed themselves wholly white and fair towards the
Christians, but black and terrible to them that were miscreants,"* and with the
letters B E A V S E A N, for Beauseant, their equally dreaded war-cry. This
banner was changed in the reign of Stephen for the red Maltese-like cross on a
white ground, which forms another of the devices ; and a third is copied from the
seal of Milo de Stapleton, a member of the order, which still exists in the British
Museum, attached to a charter of the date of 1320 : this represents the cross of
* Favvne (Theatre of Honour) ; referred to in Mr. Willcment's account, in 'The Temple Church,' by William
Burge, Esq.
I
i
28 LONDON.
Christ raised above the crescent of the Saracen, with a star on each side. As we
now move on towards the painted windows of the east end, we perceive, among
other interesting minutiae, the pious inscriptions, in Latin and in antique charac-
ters, that every here and there decorate and inform the wall with their stern
threatenings to the wicked, their sweet and elevating consolations to the weary
and heavily laden, their admonitions to all to remember the uses of the glorious
structure — the end of all the solemn pomp around. That long inscription com-
mencino- in the north-west corner against the entrance to the aisle, and running
all down that side, across the east end, then again along here at our back, till it
finishes on the wall of the entrance archway close to the spot from which it
started, is the ' Te Deum.' Drawing still nearer to the western extremity, is it fancy
only that suggests the sense of growing richness — an effect as though the whole
compartment beyond the two last pillars was lit up by some peculiar but unseen
radiance? The general character of the decoration evidently has not changed.
As we look, however, upon the roof attentively, we perceive that, whilst with the
most subtle art the eye has not been warned of any sudden or striking alteration,
the whole has been altered, the hues have grown deeper — the arabesques more
elaborate — the whole more superb : yet still as remote as ever from garish or
unseemly display : as fitting a prelude to the gorgeous eastern windows that
illumine the compartment, as they are both suitable accessories of the altar
beneath — resplendent in burnished gold — exquisite alike in its architecture and
sculpture ; whilst all — roof, windows, and altar, form most appropriately in every
sense the culminating point of beauty of the Temple Church ; the grand close
of the beautiful vista through which we have advanced. The central or chief
window is most rich in its storied panes, containing, as it does, a numerous series
of designs from the life of Christ, conspicuous among which appears the Cruci-
fixion. The variety and sumptuousness of the details are beyond description.
Over all the immense space occupied by the window, you can scarcely find one
piece of unbroken colour two inches square : how great then the artistical skill
that can combine such minute fragments into so splendid a work ; and, one would
suppose, how tedious the process ! Here we must venture to suggest a fault, or
what appears to us to be one, and we find that others have also noticed it. The
prevailing colours are blue and ruby, with — less prominently — green. It is, we
believe, generally admitted that one of the principles of the ancient artists was
vivid distinctness of colour : here, on the contrary, the blue and red mingle into
something very like purple. This is less perceptible in the two side windows,
and not at all in the one in the centre of the church facing the organ-loft. We
have heard that this is owing to the use of a particular kind of red in the first,
and which was not used in the last. This window is, in consequence, more bril-
liant-looking and pure in its masses of colour; and though these are confined to
the figures of the angels playing antique musical instruments, one in each side-
light, and three in the middle one, the remainder of its ornaments consisting
chiefly of mere dark pencilled scrolls, covering the entire surface, yet so striking
is the contrast, so chaste and beautiful the result, that if we were asked whether
it be really true that the Art so long lost is reviving among us, we should desire to
give no better answer than a reference to this window. But, hark ! there wanted
THE TEMPLE CHURCH. 29
but one influence to complete the spell that seems to possess this place, and all
who enter, and it comes. A few preluding notes, the first big drops as it were
of rain amid sunshine, and out bursts the divine tempest of harmony from the
mighty organ. Eoof, walls, windows disappear ; the Temple is for the moment
nothing — we are borne up by the magnificent volume of sound, the willing sport
of the elements, tossed to and fro. But divine is the power that moves — the
voice so potent to stir stirs not idly ; from the glorious turmoil steals out the
lowest and gentlest of tones ; you would catch it — you listen, and lo ! its whisper is
already ascending from your heart. But alas ! some visitor^ deaf to the " con-
cord of sweet sounds," recalls us to earth, to reflect how near we had been to heaven.
" O, the power of church music 1" And thankful may we be that in this, as well
as in the other arrangements, the Benchers of the Temple are actuated by the
right feeling, as they are gratifying that feeling by a judicious liberality. The
choir, consisting of fourteen voices (six men and eight boys), is to be permanent,
and brought as speedily as possible to a high state of excellence. The organ, it is
generally known, is one of the finest in this country, and has an amusing history
attached to it. About the end of the reign of Charles II. the Societies determined
on the erection of an organ; the two great builders of that time were Schmidt,
or Father Smith (for — the correct appellation being too hard, we presume, for
English ears — so he was called), and Harris. Of course they were rivals ; and as
each desired to have confided to him the erection of an organ which was to be
supreme in its excellence, and as each was supported by numerous patrons and
partisans, the Benchers were somewhat puzzled how to decide. Their solution
of the problem was worthy of the acknowledged acumen of the profession. They
proposed to the candidates that each should erect an organ in the church, and
that they would then keep the best. The proposal was accepted, and in nine
months two organs appeared in the Temple. Did any of our readers ever witness
the debut of two rival prima donnas at an opera — the crowded tiers upon tiers of
faces, the eager anticipation, the excitement, the applause replying to applause "i
Some such scene, modified only by the peculiarity of the place, appears to have
attended the debut of the two organs. First, Blow and Purcell performed on
appointed days on Father Smith's great work. The getting sucli coadjutors must
have rather startled Harris ; but there was still Mons. Luily, and he did full
justice to his organ. Which was best? The Smithians unanimously agreed
Smith's ; the opposite party remained in opposition, and equally single-minded.
Month after month the competition continued, for the space of a year, when
Harris challenged Smith to make certain new reed stops within a fixed period,
and then renew the trial. This was done, and to the delight of everybody. But a
choice was more difficult than ever. Each was evidently the best organ in the world
except the other. The matter began to grow serious. Violence and bad feeling
broke out, and the consequences to the candidates became in many ways so injurious,
that they are said to have been "just not ruined.'' Lord Chief- Justice Jefferies was
at last empowered to decide, and we have now before us the organ he favoured
— Smith's 1 We have already mentioned the former position of this instrument,
its present one was only adopted after a long and anxious deliberation, in which
gentlemen of no less importance than Messrs. Etty, Sidney Smirke, Cottingham,
30
LONDON.
Blorc, Willement, and Savage took part; and, certainly, the decision is not
unworthy of the collective wisdom. It now stands in a chamber built behind,
and rather laro-er in every way than the central window on the northern side ; an
arrancrement that left the noble view unobstructed which we have shown in a pre-
vious^page, and which required no other adaptation of the window than the mere
removal of the glass, and the walls of division between the lights. The classi-
calities have been ruthlessly swept away, and you now see its gilded and gaily-
decorated pipes rising majestically upwards towards the Gothic pinnacles
which crown it, rich in fretwork, and beautifully relieved against the painted
roof of the light chamber behind. In a little vestry-room beneath are the bust
of Lord Thurlow, who was buried in the Temple vaults, and the tablet of Oliver
Goldsmith, who was buried in the churchyard. The last was set up at the ex-
pense of the Benchers, a few years ago, as graceful and honourable, as it was, of
course, a spontaneous acknowledgment of the poet's burial in their precincts.
These, with other memorials, will be shortly removed into the gallery sur-
rounding the upper part of the Kound, where Plowden, the eminent lawyer,
lies in effigy beneath a semi-circular canopy — one of those heavy masses of
stone, paint, and gilding, obelisks, death's heads and flowers, that so de-
lighted our Elizabethan forefathers, accompanied by various others of the
same kind. At the back of the seats occupied during service by th*e Benchers'
ladies, on a black stone against the wall, we read the inscription — Joannes Sel-
Jenvs — a name that needs little comment. '' He was," says Wood (' Athense '),
*'a great philologist, antiquary, herald, linguist, statesman, and what not !" He
died in 1654. Of the remaining details of the church, we can only enumerate the
carved benches, with their endless variety of heads, animals, and of flowers and
fruit, copies from similar works preserved in our cathedrals ; the sumptuous
accessories of the altar, as the crimson velvet cloth with its gold embroidery; the
ambry and piscina discovered on the removal of the " light wainscot " that formerly
covered the lower part of the wall ; the arch with the effigy of the bishop
beneath it who is mentioned in our former paper, in the south-east corner; the
penitential cell, also there referred to, which is on the side of the circular stairs
leading up to the Triforium, in the wall of the archways between the Rotunda and
chancel ; and lastly, the portraits of the kings which decorate the upper part
of these arches, namely — Henry I., Stephen, Henry II., Richard I., John, and
Henry III., monarchs who were all, more or less, benefactors to the Temple ; with
the reign of the lirst of whom the order started into existence, and with the last,
virtually terminated. Henry's successor, Edward I., gave unequivocal evidence
of his desire to help himself to a little of the Templars' wealth, instead of confer-
ring some of his own on them ; and his successor suppressed them, a.d. 1308. We
must add, that those who would know to whom we are indebted for the painted
windows throughout the church, the roof, and, indeed, the decorations generally,
will see in the northern window of the three at the east end, if they look carefully,
the following words: '' Willement hoc opus fecit'' The chief architectural works
Avere commenced from the plan and under the superintendence of Mr. Savage,
and (through some private differences) completed by Mr. Decimus Burton and
Mr. Sidney Smirke. The carvings are by Mr. Nash. Already the public are
THE TEMPLE CHURCH. 31
admitted freely on the afternoons of Sunday, and it is net improbable that,
ev^entually, daily service will be performed here, which, of cour-se, would be also
open to them.
Reverting to the topic of our introductory remarks — progress, and the pro-
bable effect of the present restoration — whither may we hope its influence will
guide us ? The state of our cathedrals will at once occur to every one : what a
world of whitewash is there not to be removed, what exquisite chapels and chapter-
houses to be restored, even in a mere architectural sense — witness the disgraceful
state of the chapter-house of Westminster Abbey, for instance ; what piles of
monuments to be carried up into the Triforiums, before even the peculiar fea-
tures of the Temple restoration — the decorative — are begun. But, supposing all
this accomplished, are we to rest there ? Let us answer the question by imagin-
ing, for a moment, what might be done within some given period, under favour-
able circumstances. To begin with the Temple. Whilst we may be certain
that we have by no means reached the pinnacle of mere decorative splendour
allowed by the severest taste, we have yet to call to our aid in such structures
the highest artists — more particularly the sacred painter, with his solemn frescoes
from Holy Writ, to which all other decorations should be but the mere adjuncts.
The stranger wandering from such a building as this will find it stands not alone ;
that Art has asserted and established its universality. If he walks into the hall
of the neighbouring University (we beg the reader still to accompany us in
imagination), he finds a series of grand designs illustrative of the objects of
the institution ; he sees Theolog}^ Jurisprudence, and Philosoph}^, each sur-
rounded by her disciples — the messengers unto the world of all that the world
has most reason to cherish. From the University to the Gallery of Art ; with its
long external range of statues of the great masters whose works are within, with
its exquisite pediment, showing all the processes of sculpture, from the modelling of
the clay and the hewing of the marble, up to the last touching of the finished produc-
tion. Within he finds the accumulated stores, arranged with the most consummate
skill, every work carefully placed, so as to be well lighted, and beautifully relieved
against the back or surrounding walls — he finds the whole informed by one har-
monious spirit — above all, he finds that each department reveals its own artistical
history, from the earliest to the present time, by the quality and sequence of the
works. Looking still farther, he perceives that, from the prince to the peasant,
there is a comparatively universal sense of enjoyment in and appreciation of these
things. Whilst the King, if he has a palace to build, says to the architect,
" Build me a palace, in which nothing within or without shall be of transient
fashion or interest ; a palace for my posterity, and my people, as well as my
self," and obtains accordingly such a work as has seldom or never before been
seen, the people on their parts are stopping here in crowds, parents with
their children, soldiers, mechanics, young and old, to examine the paintings of
the public arcade, as they pass through it on their ordinary business ; works
by the rising painters of the day, the men of young but acknowledged genius,
who are preparing themselves for the highest demands that can be made
upon them, in this series, illustrating all the great events of the national history.
Again " But," interrupts a reader,*' you do not mean seriously to intimate
32
LONDON.
that all this is j^racticable, or at least within the next half-dozen centuries ?—
It is a mere dream." Very possibly. The ideas, so hastily suggested here,
may be too gigantic for accomplishment in the great capital of the great British
Empire; not the less, however, has all that we have described, and a thousand
times more than could be gathered from our remarks, been done in the capital
of the little kingdom of Bavaria, and in twenty years ! All honour to the poet-
king, Ludwig the First, and to the artists with whom he feels honoured in con-
necting his name.
VkM<!fitl^Ai'
[The Western Window, Altar, Sic, Temple Chuich.J
[Procession of Placards.]
cm.— ADVERTISEMENTS.
Among what may be called the open-air Exhibitions of London — the collec-
tions of works of art gratuitously exposed to public view — there are none more
interesting than the ''External Paper-hangers' Stations." The windows of the
printshops — especially of those in which caricatures are exhibited — have great
attractions, doubtless : but there is a grandeur and boldness in the chefs- dJ'oeuvre
of the stations^ which completely eclipses them. The engravings in the print-
shop windows have contracted a good deal of that mincing elaborateness of finish
which characterizes what may be called the Annuals' School of Art ; those which
we see at the stations, on the contrary, have all the boldness, if not much of the
imagination and artistical skill of Salvator Rosa, and may compete the palm in
roughness, at least, with the Elgin Marbles in their present weather-worn con-
dition.
The stations of the External Paper-hangers are numerous, but rather ephe-
meral in their existence, and migratory in their propensities. It requires no
great previous preparation, or expenditure of capital to establish one. Any
dead wall, or any casing of boards around a public monument or public dwelling
in the process of erection, on which the cabalistic words ''Bill-Stickers, beware !"
or '' Stick no Bills !" have not been traced, may be, Avithout more ado converted
into a place of exhibition. And the assiduity with which the " Hanging Com-
mittee " of the great metropolis adorn the brick or wooden structure with a fresh
supply of artistical gems every morning is amazing.
The boarded fence at the top of the stairs leading down to the steam-boat
station at the north-end of Waterloo Bridge, the dead wall beside the English
Opera House in North Wellington Street, the houses condemned to have the '• im-
provements" driven through where Newport Street abuts upon St. Martin's Lane,
VOL. V. D
34 LONDON.
the enclosure round the Nelson's Monument in Trafalgar Square, the enclosure
of the space on the west side of St. James's Street, where the Junior United
Service Club House is about to be erected, are at present the most fashionable
and conspicuous of these exhibitions at the '' West End." The purlieus of the
new Royal Exchange are most in vogue in the City, but the rapid progress of
the b'uildino-s threatens ere long to force the exhibiters to seek a new locality.
The attractive character of the objects exhibited at these places sufficiently
accounts for the crowds of lounging amateurs which may at almost every hour of
the day be found congregated around them. There are colossal specimens of typo-
graphy, in juxtaposition with which the puny letters of our pages would look like
a snug citizen's box placed beside the pyramids of Egypt. There are rainbow-
hued T^lacards, vying in gorgeous extravagance of colour with Turner's last new
picture. There are tables of contents of all the weekly newspapers, often more
piquant and alluring than the actual newspapers themselves, these annunciatory
placards not unfrequently bearing the same relation to the journals that the
tempting skins of Dead-Sea fruits have been said to bear to their dry, choking
substance : or, to adopt a more domestic simile, that the portraits outside
of wild-beast caravans do to the beasts within. Then there are pictures of
pens, gigantic as the plumes in the casque of the Castle of Otranto, held in
hands as huge as that which was seen on the banisters of the said castle ; spec-
tacles of enormous size, fit to grace the eyes of an ogre ; Irishmen dancing under
the influence of Guinness's Dublin Stout or Beamish's Cork Particular ; ladies in
riding habits and gentlemen in walking dresses of incredible cheapness ; prize oxen,
whose very appearance is enough to satiate the appetite for ever. Lastly, there
are "Bills o' the Play," lettered and hieroglyphical, and it is hard to say which is
the most enticing. One of the former tells us that ''Love " has just returned
from America, and will '' perform " alternately at the Strand Theatre and Crosby
Hall '' during the whole of Lent." This announcement, by the association of
ideas, reminds one that St. Valentine's is just past, and Byron's 'Beppo ' is still in
existence. But the Pictorial Bills o' the Play bring before our startled eyes a
'' Domestic Tale," in the shape of one man shooting another on the quarter-deck
of a vessel in flames, off the coast of Van Diemen's Land, with emigrants and
convicts of all shapes and sizes crowded on the shore ; or the grand fight
between grenadiers and Jacobite conspirators, in the ''^ Miser's Daughter;" or
"Jack Ketch," caught on his own scaffold; or a view of the ''tremendous
Khyber Pass," as it may be 'seen nightly at the Queen's Theatre, with Lady Sale
at the top of it brandishing a pistol in either hand, beneath the cocked and
levelled terrors of which a row of turbaned Orientals kneel on either side of the
heroine. And here we may pause to remark, how hopeful must be the attempt
to extract the true history of ancient Greece out of its epic poets and dramatists,
when modern playwrights are seen to take such liberties with the veracious
chronicles of contemporary newspapers.
It becomes philosophical historians to penetrate beneath the mere shows and
external surfaces of things. The works of Phidias and Michael Angelo were
not simply meant to be pleasing to look upon — they were intended to be agents
in exciting and keeping up devotional feelings. And in like manner the gaudy
ornaments with which our External Paper-hangers adorn their stations have a
ADVERTISEMENTS. ' 35
utility of their own, and are meant (this is noted for the information of posterity,
for the living generation know it well enough) to serve the purposes of adver-
tising for the interests of individuals, as well as of amusing the public at large.
A strange chapter in the history of man might be written on the subject of
Advertisements. They became necessary as soon as any tribe became numerous
enough for any one member of it to be hid in a crowd. The heralds of whom we
read in Homer were the first " advertising mediums," and in remote country towns
the class still exists in the shape of toAvn drummers and town bellmen, employed
to proclaim orally to the citizens all impending auctions, and many perpetrated
larcenies, Avith losings and findings of every possible category. Manuscript
placards seem to have been next in order : some fossilized specimens of them
have been preserved on the walls of Pompeii, under the showers of moistened
ashes with which that town was potted for the inspection of posterity. Of this
system of advertising existing samples may occasionally be seen in rural dis-
tricts, where manuscript announcements of hay crops for sale and farms to let
are from time to time stuck up on the gates of the churchyard ; or even in
the suburbs of the metropolis, in the guise of exhortations to purchase " Warren's
Blacking," or try somebody's " Gout and Rheumatic Oil." The invention of
printing naturally caused printed placards and posting bills in a great measure
to supersede the written ones; with the increased circulation of newspapers the
practice gained ground of making them the vehicle of advertisements; and
finally all sorts of periodicals, and even books published once for all, have been
made to carry along with them a prefix or an appendix of these useful announce-
ments.
With every increase in the multiplicity of industrial avocations, and in the
density of population, increases the necessity of devising new vehicles of adver-
tisements, and alluring forms for them. In order to live, a man must get em-
ployment ; in order to get employment, his existence and his talents must be
known ; and, in proportion to the numbers by whom he is surrounded must be
his efforts to distinguish himself among the crowd. In a company of half-a-dozen,
the man who is an inch taller than his fellows is distinguished by this slight dif-
ference; but^ in a congregation of ten thousand, it requires the stature of the
Irish giant to make a man conspicuous. It might easily be imagined, therefore,
even though the proofs were not before our eyes, to what a degree of refined per-
fection the art of advertising has been carried in our crammed and busy London.
There are advertisements direct and indirect, explicit and by innuendo ; there is
the newspaper advertisement, the placard, and the hand-bill; there is the adver-
tisement literary and the advertisement pictorial ; there is the advertisement in
the form of a review or of a newspaper paragraph ; there is the advertisement
(most frequently of some milliner, or tailor, or jeweller, or confectioner) lurking
in the pages of a fashionable novel. Some people write books merely to let the
world in general, or at least those who have oflicial appointments to bestow, know
that they are there, and, in trading phrase, '' open to an engagement." Nay, some
there are who, by constantly forcing their personal presence on public notice,
convert themselves into ambulatory placards, making their lives, not what the
sentimentalist calls " one long-drawn sigh,'' but one incessantly repeated and
wearisome advertisement.
D 2
36 LONDON.
It would be equally futile and tedious to attempt to enumerate and classify all
the vehicles of advertisements, and all the forms which advertisements assume in
London in the present hi^h and palmy state of the art of advertising. It will
suffice to run over a few of the most striking and characteristic in a cursory
manner. The appearance of the external paper-hangers' stations has already
been described. The external paper-hangers themselves are a peculiar race ;
well known by sight from their fustian jackets with immense pockets, their tin
paste-boxes suspended by a strap, their placard-pouches, their thin rods of office,
with cross-staff at the extremity, formed to join into each other and extend to a
length capable of reaching the loftiest elevations at which their posting-bills are
legible. A corporate body they are, with consuetudinary bye-laws of their own,
which have given rise to frequent litigations in the police courts. The sage
judges of these tribunals have found ere now the title of an external paper-
hanger to his station as puzzling as that of a sweeper to his crossing. Then
there seems to be a kind of apprenticeship known amongst them, though, from
several recent cases at Bow Street, there is room to doubt whether the riirhts
and duties of master and 'prentice have hitherto been defined with sufficient pre-
cision. The period for which a placard must be exposed to public view before
it is lawful to cover it over with a new one is a nice question, but seems settled
with tolerable certainty. And, to the honour of London external paper-hangers
be it said, that there is rarely found (even at the exciting period of an election)
among them that disregard of professional etiquette, or rather honour, which
leads the mere bill-sticker of the provinces to cover over the posting-bills of a
rival before the latter have well dried on the wall. Great judgment is required,
and its possession probably is the best mark of distinction between the real artist
and the mere mechanical external paper-hanger, in selecting the proper expo-
sures (to borrow a phrase from horticulture) for bills. Some there are whose
broad and popular character laughs out with most felicitous effect from the most
conspicuous points — others, calculated for a sort of private publicity, ought to be
affixed in out-of-the-way nooks and corners, retired but not unseen, provoking-
curiosity the more from the very circumstance of their being only half seen, each
a semi-reducta Venus. The profession of an external paper-hanger, it will be
seen, requires intellect as well as taste — it is rather superior to that of an uphol-
sterer, and rather inferior to that of an artist : in regard to the degree of tact
and talent required to exercise it with effect, the profession is as nearly as pos-
sible on a level with the Hanging Committee of the Royal Academy, and the
spirit which animates the two bodies seems as similar as their occupations.
Another class of advertising agents is more completely distinct from the ex-
ternal paper-hangers than cursory observers would suppose — the bill-distributers.
The point of precedence is not very satisfactorily adjusted between the two sets
of functionaries. The bill-sticker (we beg pardon for using the almost obsolete
and less euphonious name, but really its new substitute is too lengthy), with his
tin paste-box and wallet of placards, has a more bulky presence — occupies a
larger space in the world's eye — and the official appearance of his bunch of rods
adds to the illusion. He is apt to swagger on the strength of this when he passes
the mere bill-distributer. On the other hand, there can be no doubt that the
bill-distributer regards his calling as more private, less ostentatious — in short.
ADVERTISEMENTS. 37
more gcntleraanlilve than that of the bill-sticker. '' Any man," said an eminent
member of the profession, with whom we had once the honour to argue the ques-
tion, " any man can stick a bill upon a wall, but to insinuate one gracefully and
irresistibly into the hands of a lady or gentleman, is only for one who, to natural
genius, adds long experience." In short (for his harangue was somewhat of the
longest), it was clear our friend conceived his profession to stand in the same
relation to that of a bill-sticker that the butler out of livery does to the footman
in it. And, in corroboration of his views, it must be admitted that there is an
air of faded gentility about many of the bill-distributers of the metropolis.
There is one of them in particular, whose most frequent station is in front of
Burlington House, whose whole outward man and manner resemble so closely
those of a popular member of Parliament — the same flourishing whiskers, the
same gracious bend of his slim person — that, in St. Stephen's, one could fancy
the bill-distributer had just emerged into better circumstances; or, in Piccadilly,
that the bill-framer had met with a reverse of fortune. It may be observed here
that bill-distributers may be classified as permanent and occasional. The perma-
nent are those who, like the gentleman last alluded to, have a station to which
they repair day after day : the occasional are those who, on the occurrence of a
public meeting at Exeter Hall, or on a court-day at the India House, or any
similar occasions when men congregate in numbers, are placed at the door with
hand-bills — most frequently advertisements of unsaleable periodicals — to stuff
them into the hands of all who enter.
Peripatetic placards are comparatively a recent invention. The first form
they assumed was that of a standard-bearer, with his placard extended like the
Koman vexillum at the top of a long pole. Next came a heraldic anomaly, with
placards hanging down before and behind like a herald's tabard : Boz has some-
where likened this phenomenon to a sandwich — a piece of human flesh between
two slices of pasteboard. When these innovations had ceased to be novelties,
and, consequently, to attract observation, some brilliant genius conceived the
idea of reviving their declining powers by the simple process of multiplication.
This was no more than applying to the streets a principle which had already
succeeded on the stage. An eminent playwright — the story is some hundred years
old — finding a widow and orphan had proved highly eff'ective in the tragedy of a
rival dramatist, improved upon the hint by introducing a widow with two
orphans, but was trumped in turn by a third, who introduced a widower with six
small motherless children. The multiplication of pole-bearers answered admi-
rably for a time, but it also has been rather too frequently repeated. Of late the
practice has, in a great measure, been restricted to a weekly newspaper of enor-
mous size and enormous circulation, which seems to have discovered that the
public could only be made aware of the great number of copies it purchased by
this mode of chronicling the intelligence.
To peripatetic placards succeeded the vehicular. The first of these were sim-
ple enough — almost as rude as the cart of Thespis could well be supposed to be.
A last relic of this simple generation still performs its circuits, warning, in
homely and affectionate fashion, " Maids and bachelors'* — " when they marry" —
to "purchase their bedding" at an establishment where they are sure to get it
cheap and good. Alas, in the ancient time, when we were married, there were no
38
LONDON.
sucli kind advisers to save young folks from being taken in in this important
article of domestic economy ! The first attempt at something finer than the
lumberino* machines alluded to was a colossal hat, mounted upon springs like a
gig (that badge of the ''respectable''), which may still be remembered — perhaps
still be seen — dashing down Regent Street at the heels of a spirited horse, with
the hatmaker's name in large letters on the outside, whereas small human hats
have in general only the hat- wearer's name in small letters on the inside. Then
came an undescribable column mounted, like the tower of Juggernaut, upon the
body of a car — a hybrid between an Egyptian obelisk and the ball-surmounted
column of an English country-gentleman's gate. It bore an inscription in
honour of '' washable wigs " and their cheapness. The rude structure of boards
stuck round with placards has of late given way to natty vans, varnished like
coaches, and decorated with emblematic paintings. The first of these that met
our eye had emblazoned on its stern an orange sky bedropped with Cupids or
cherubs, and beneath the roseate festoon of these tiny combinations of human
heads and duck-wings an energetic Fame puffing lustily at a trumpet. Below
this allegorical device was attached — on the occasion when we had the honour to
make the acquaintance of this vehicle — a placard displaying in large letters
the name of " the monster murderer, Daniel Good.'* There was an apotheosis !
The luxury of vehicular advertisements continues to increase with a steady
rapidity that might appal the soul of an admirer of sumptuary laws. No further
gone than last week djd we encounter a structure not unlike the iron monument
reared in the neighbourhood of Berlin to the memory of the heroes of the war of
independence. It was the same complication of arched Gothic niches and pin-
nacles; but in the niches, instead of the efhgies of mailed warriors, stood stuffed-
out dresses, such as are worn by the fashionables of the day. The figures were
life-like in every respect, except that all of them wanted heads. By some internal
clock-work the structure was made to revolve on its axis as the car on which it
was erected whirled along. It was a masterpiece of incongruity — blending in its
forms Gothic romance with modern tailorism ; in its sujrffestive associations the
' too
])?<)U(1 ' o .u ent reared by a nation to its deliverers from foreign tyranny, with
ADVERTISEMENTS. 39
the processions of victims of the guillotine in the maddest moment of France's
blood-drunken revolution. The genius of Absurdity presided over the con-
coction^ and hailed it as worthy to be called her own chef-d'oeuvre, and as the
ne plus ultra of the efforts of human insignificance to attract notice in a crowd.
The advertisements to which we have hitherto been referring only encounter
the Londoner when he ventures out into the streets. They jostle him in the
crowd, as any other casual stranger might do. They are at best mere chance
acquaintances : even '^ the old familiar faces" among them do not intrude upon
our domestic privacy. When we shut our street-doors we shut them out. But
there is a class of advertisements which follow us to our homes — sit beside us
in our easy chairs — whisper to us at the breakfast-table — are regular and che-
rished visitants — the advertisements which crowd the columns of a newspaper.
Newspaper advertisements are to newspaper news what autobiography is to the
narrative of a man's life told by another. The paragraphs tell us about men's
sayings and doings : the advertisements are their sayings and doings. There is
a dramatic interest about the advertising columns which belongs to no other
department of a newspaper. They tell us what men are busy about, how they
feel, what they think, what they want. As we con them over in the pages of
the ' Times ' or ' Chronicle/ we have the whole busy ant-hill of London life
exposed to our view. The journals we have named do more for us, without ask-
ing us to leave the fireside, than the Devil on Two Sticks could do for Don
Cleofas after he had whisked him up to the steeple, and without the trouble of
untiling all the houses '' as you would take the crust off a pie."
It is not to matters of business alone, as the amateur in advertisements well
knows, that these announcements are confined. Many of them have such a
suggestive mystery about them, that they almost deserve a place in the " Ro-
mance of Real Life." In corroboration of this we take up a file of the ' Times,'
and open at random, turning to the top of the second column of the first page,
the locality most affected by this class. There is an imploring pathos about the
very first that meets our eyes, that might suggest matter for at least three chap-
ters of a modern novel : — '' F. T. W. is most urgently intreated to communicate
his address to his friend J. C, before finally determi7zing upon so rash a course
of conduct as that mentioned in his letter of yesterday. All may and will be
arra7i(yed. The address, if communicated, will be considered confidential." Still
more heart-rending are the images conjured up by the address upon which we
stumble next :— '' To A. M. Your brother imjjlores that you will immediately
return home, and every arrangement will be made for your comfort ; or write
me, and relieve the dreadful distress in which our parents are at your absence."
The next strikes the note of generous enthusiasm : — '' Grant. Received 5/. 65.,
with thanks and admiration for the rare probity exhibited." The superhuman
virtue which could resist the temptation to pocket 5/. 6^. called for no less.
What next ? A laconic and perfectly intelligible hint : — " P. is informed that
E. P. is very short of money. Pray write soon.'' Would that all our duns
would adopt this delicate method of reminding us of their claims. All the world
knows what a gentleman means ; but perhaps few are aware that the gentleman
visited London in the year of grace 1841 (for from the records of that year are
we now culling) : — ^' If the cab-driver who brought the gentleman from Little
40 LONDON.
Queen Street this morning to . St. James's, will bring the blue great-
coat, he will receive ten shillings reward." The next is of a gayer cast ; it may
have been an advertisement of Tittlebat Titmouse, Esq., in his jolly days :—
" Ten shillings Keward. Lost on Friday night last, a rhinoceros walking-
cane, gold mounting, with initials T. T., supposed to have been left at the
Cider Cellar, Maiden Lane. Apply at the St. Albans Hotel, Charles Street,
St. James's." This comes of young gentlemen's larking, and sitting late at the
Cider Cellar, which, by the way, is a cellar no longer, having been promoted to
the ground floor. Paulo majora canamus ! here comes emphasis and delicate
embarrassment enough for three whole volumes : — ''To the philanthropic and
affluent. A young and protectionless orphan lady of respectability is in most
imminent need of two hundred pounds to preserve her from utter and irre-
trievable ruin, arising mainly in a well-meant but improvident bill of acceptance,
that from miscalculation of means in timeliness she has been unable to meet, and
whereby legal process has just issued against her, involving a recherche limning
property, of a far greater, and to three hundred pounds insured amount. In
the forlorn yet fervid hope of such her twofold critically fearful case attracting
the eye of some benevolent personage, forthwith disposed to inquire into it, and,
on the proof, humanely to step forward to her rescue, both herein and. for aiford-
ing her a gratuitous asylum till the advanced spring, at least, when such pro-
perty could be made best convertible, this advertisement, by an incompetent but
anxious well-wisher^ in appreciation of her great amiability, wonted high prin-
ciple, domestic, and on every hand exemplary worth, is inserted."
How easily might a practised story-composer manufacture a domestic tale out
of these materials, gleaned in a cursory glance of a few minutes ! He might
paint, with Dutch fidelity, the bitter as causeless squabbles of relatives ; might
intersperse the graver chapters with pictures of life about town, as witnessed by
the hero of the " rhinoceros-cane " in his nocturnal perambulations; and what
a splendid heroine, ready-made to his hand, in the fair one who could inspire the
prose Pindaric just quoted ! It seems to have become a received law that there
must be some love in a novel, and even this we may find in the rich mine we are
now excavating ; for in these days of publicity and gigantic combinations, even
* The Times' has been enlisted under the banners of Cupid, and made occasion-
ally the means ''to waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole." We open upon chance ;
and lo ! at the head of the aforesaid second column of the first page—" Why
does Frederic come no more to St. John's Wood ?" The song says— -
" At the Baron of Mowbray's gate was seen
A page with a courser black ;
Tlien out came a Knight of a gallant mien
And he leapt on the courser's Lack ;
His heart was light and his armour bright,
And he sung this merry lay —
* O ladies ! beware of a brave young man,
He loves and he rides away.'
A Lady looked over the castle wall
When she heard the Knight thus sing,
I And when she heard the words he let fall,
Her hands she began to wring :' &c.
ADVERTISEMENTS. 41
Now this was very natural, for in those days there were no newspapers. But
had ' The Times ' then existed, the woeful lady of the ballad need not have been
reduced to unavailing hand-wringing : she would immediately have inserted, in
the advertising columns of his newspaper — "Why does the knight of a gallant
mien come no more to the Baron of Mowbray's castle ?" Every morning daily,
as he took his breakfast, would he be reminded of his offence. Afraid to touch
the harassing monitor, his matutinal meal would lose more than half its relish.
No place of refuge could he fly to where the wailings of his mistress could not
follow him. They would be heard in the coffee-room, they would penetrate even
into the asylum of the club. A spell would be upon him, rendering life misera-
ble till he knelt for mercy at the feet of his mistress again. The fair dames of
romance could only stab, poison, or betake themselves to sorcery, but our forlorn
ones can advertise their lovers as "stolen or strayed."
The following advertisement, which appeared in the ' Chronicle ' of the present
year, not long after St. Valentine's, may also have reference to the tender pas-
sion ; the hero of it might serve for the loutish lover so frequently introduced
as a foil to the serious and elegant inamorato of a tale: "If the author of the
lines, of which the following is a skeleton of the first stanza, will communicate
with the person to whom they were recently addressed, which is earnestly desired,
the result cannot but be gratifying to both parties : —
" C— 1 ! - * * * - meet
You * * * * * * me
And * * * * * * eye ;
\o\x '- -• - •'- "■ -- by
As * * * * * * 01(1 Woman."
The rhyme is somewhat peculiar. The mystery of this advertisement is easily
solved. The Police Reports noticed, a few days before its publication, that a
gentleman had appeared at one of the offices in high dudgeon because, on apply-
ing at the Post Office to have the postage of a Valentine returned, he was
politely informed, " that it was the practice to return the postage of all anony-
mous letters — except Valentines." Doubtless, the communication which was to
.be in its result "gratifying to both parties," was a mere bait to catch the offender
who had mulcted the angry gentleman in twopence ; and if the sweet youth was
caught, it needs no spirit of divination to tell that assuredly he tasted of cudgel.
Matrimonial advertisements are at a discount, but a class which still retain
a soupcon of matrimonial speculation continue to haunt the newspapers. Here is
a specimen ; — " A Lady in her thirty-third year wishes to meet with a situation
as Companion to a Lady, or to superintend the domestic concerns of a Widower.
She has been accustomed to good society, and can give unexceptionable refer-
ences. As a comfortable home is the principal object^ a moderate scdary will sufficed
For " thirty- third " read "thirty-eighth." It is a buxom widow, who wishes
to secure a good house over her head, with a chance of becoming its mistress.
If her appearance please the honest man who accepts her services, he had best
go to church with her at once, for " to this complexion it must conu/at l^st."
Perhaps, however, he would prefer to mate himself with the "llespectable
Widow " in the next column, who is " fully competent to superintend the house-
hold affairs of a Single Gentleman, or a Mercantile Establishment ;" or, better
42 LONDON. ' j
still, a female '' of high respectability and of the Established Church," who
''would be found invaluable where children have been recently deprived of
maternal care ; and, being clever in millinery and dress-maldng, would take them
under her entire care." Yet something more than being clever in millinery and
dress-making is sometimes thought necessary to qualify for the charge of chil-
dren ; so perhaps the widower might prefer sending his daughters to the innu-
merable admirable seminaries of education where young ladies are taught —
"French, Italian, and German; English Composition; Mathematics, Political
Economy, and Chemistry; the use of the Globes; Calisthenics (and single-
stick?); Drawing, Entomology and Botany. — N.B. Latin and Greek, if re-
quired;" and where, in addition to all this cramming, ''the Diet is unlimited!"
Our British fair do not lavish all their attentions on the other sex — they have
some sympathy left for their own : — " Two Ladies, residing within a few miles of
town, wish to receive a Lady suffering under Mental Imbecility. While every
attention would be paid to her health, it would be their study to promote the
comfort and amusement of the patient, as far as circumstances might allow. The
use of a carriage is required," whether the patient be able to use it or not. The
benevolent and disinterested attention to the comfort of utter strangers, implied ji
in the advertisement of the ladies under consideration, is not confined to the
breasts of the softer sex. Here is a male philanthropist, who, unable to find
occupants enough for his roomy benevolence, steps from the circle of his acquaint-
ance into the regions of the unknown, and volunteers his services to all and any
persons : — " Any Gentleman desirous of engaging in an easy and agreeable
profession will have an opportunity that offers — provided he has 1000/. to
employ as capital." Indeed, in these days, when, according to some statesmen,
the whole country is labouring under a plethora of capital, it is astonishing to
see how many humane individuals advertise their services to bleed the patients.
* All classes of readers find advertisements suited to their different tastes. To
literary men, aldermen, and other sedentary and masticating characters, of a
dyspeptical tendency, the medical advertisements are irresistible. One learned
practitioner proclaims — ''No more gout, no more rheumatism !" Another, bor-
rowing a metaphor from the worshipful fraternity of bum-bailiffs, talks of
"Bleeding arrested;" we have "Eingworm cured by a Lady," and "Toothache
cured by a Clergyman of the Church of England."* ''Parr's Life Pills" may
be such in reality as Avell in name ; but " Cockle's Antibilious Pills " are certainly
a passport to immortality, for the learned vender of them enumerates among his
active and influential patrons several whom the ill-informed public had long
numbered with the dead. Young men turn with interest to the advertisements
of the theatres and other places of public entertainment : these are generally
well classified, but to this praise there is one exception. An ingenious clergy-
man who takes for his texts— not passages from the Scriptures, but — the most
recent topics of the day, and preaches upon the themes of journals in a style
quite as entertaining, duly advertizes in the course of each week the topics he is
to discuss on the following Sunday. It is rather hard upon this gentleman that
* Speaking of toothache, some may have aii interest in knowing that — " A lady, having discovered an inva-
luable article for the toothache, now submits it to the public as unequalled, it not requiring any application to
the teeth, or producing the slightest inconvenience."
J
ADVERTISEMENTS. 43
neither the ' Times ' nor the ' Chronicle ' will place his advertisements among
those which immediately precede the '' leading article '' — that being evidently
their proper place, say between the announcement of the *' Dissolving Views "
of the Polytechnic exhibition, and that of the Zoological collection at the
English Opera House. On a themd so copious one might run on for ever : but,
before drawing bridle, let us, at least, give immortality to an advertisement
which must speak trumpet-tongued to every warlike and patriotic soul : —
^' Aux Etats Foibles, voisins, d'aucune puissance dominante aggressive, I'in-
venteur propose I'emploi de son arme nouvelle, nommee par lui, Le Pacifica-
TEUR, qui par son pouvoir destructif enorme contre les masses, egalisera les
forces les plus disparates, et entre les mains d' un peuple rendra nuls les atten-
tats d'un etranger sur leur independance nationale, Les agens pleinments
autorises peuvent s'addresser a Mons. Charles Toplis, Poultry, London."
What a crow from the Poultry ! What a huge turkeycock gobble ! This is
''^ man-traps and spring-guns " on a magnificent scale, set to guard kingdoms
instead of cabbage-gardens. The terrific emanation shakes all our nerves, and
forces us to seek refuge from the stormy passions of the present, amid the silence
and repose of the dead and buried past.
Not, however, before we have paid a hasty but heart-felt tribute to the great-
est master of the advertising art in ancient or modern times — the illustrious
George Robins. We are obliged to stick him in here, because, as is generally
the case with original genius, he fits into none of our categories. His adver-
tisements are calculated alike for the posting-bill, the distributary bill, and the
newspaper, and look equally well in all. Typographical they are, and yet the
types assume, in them, a pictorial character. No man ever made his letters
speak like George Robins. His style is his own : to speak in the language of
the turf, one could imagine he had been " got by Burke out of Malaprop." He
has carried the eloquence of advertising far beyond all his predecessors. And, as
was the case with his great precursors in eloquence, Demosthenes and Chatham,
his " copia fandi " has raised him to great charges — to be Chancellor of the Ex-
chequer to theDrury Lane renters, and founder of a colony at the Cape of Good
Hope, the annals of which he is writing in his own advertisements.
The art and science of advertising even in London did not reach the state of
perfection in which we find it all at once. Enough has been said to show that
even the young among the present generation may have noted a progressive im-
provement. But our forefathers, though not quite equal to us, were, after all,
pretty fellows in their way ; they understood something about advertising too,
as we shall soon be able to convince our readers. The perishable placards and
posting-bills of the ancients are gone — they have perished, like the frescoes of
Leonardo da Vinci — but the domesticated advertisements of the newspaper have
been stored up in libraries for the inspection of the curious. There are at this
moment lying on our table some stray journals and Gazettes of the good days of
Queen Anne and the two first Georges, and a complete set of the ' Tatler ' in
the folio half-sheets in which it first appeared, with all the real advertisements —
we do not mean Steele's parodies upon them ; and, examining those archives
carefully, we are sometimes almost tempted to give the palm to the advertisers
of that remote era. The art of advertising is perhaps in our days more uni-
44 LOiNDON.
vcrsally known and practised — there are no such crude, unlicked lumps of adver-
tisements as there were in a.d. 1711 ; but, again, there is scarcely the same racy
orio'inality. The advertisers of those days Avere the Shaksperes of this depart-
ment of literature : those of the present time can rarely be estimated above the
contributors to the annuals. •
Place mix dames ! There are plenty of wealthy and titled dames in our day
who like to see their benevolence blazoned abroad by the advertised lists of
subscribers to charities : but, apart from the spice of romance in its story, the
following advertisement by the Duchess of Buckingham, in 1734, combining a
skilful blazonry of her own humanity with a caution against over-drawing on her
bank of benevolence, throws their timid, indirect self-praise at second-hand en-
tirely into the shade : — "' Last Tuesday evening, a female child, of about three
weeks old, was left in a basket at the door of Buckingham House. The servants
would have carried it into the park, but the case being some time after made
known to the Duchess, who was told it was too late to send to the overseers bf
the parish, and that the child must perish with cold without speedy relief, her
grace was touched with compassion, and ordered it to be taken care of. The
person who left the letter in the basket is desired, by a penny-post letter, to in-
form whether the child has been baptized ; because, if not, her grace will take
care to have it done ; and likewise to procure a nurse for it. Her grace doth not
propose that this instance of her tenderness should encourage any further pre-
sents of this nature, because such future attempts will prove fruitless." These
were the days in which ' The History of a Foundling ' might have been read.
Even the reverend orator who advertises that the newest and most fashionable
topics are discussed every Sunday from his pulpit had a prototype in those days,
and one of much more daring genius — the Reverend Orator Henley. Here is
one of that grave divine's announcements for J 726: — " On Sunday, July 31, the
Theological Lectures of the Oratory begin in the French Chapel in New^port
Market, on the most curious subjects in divinity. They will be after the manner
and of the extent of the Academical Lectures. The first will be on the Liturgy
of the Oratory^ without derogating from any other, at half an hour after three in
the afternoon. Service and sermon in the morninsr will be at half an hour after
ten. The subjects will be always new, and treated in the most natural manner.
On Wednesday next, at five in the evening, will be an Academical Lecture on
Education, ancient and modern. The chairs that were forced back last Sunday
by the crowd, if they would be pleased to come a very little sooner, would find
the passage easy. As the town is pleased to approve of this undertaking, and
the institutor neither does nor will act nor say anything in it that is contrary to
the laws of God and his country, he depends on the protection of both, and
despises malice and calumny." The advertisement of November, 1728, is still
more daringly eccentric : — '' At the Oratory in Newport Market, to-morrow, at
half an hour after ten, the sermon will be on the Witch of Endor. At half an
hour after five the Theological Lecture will be on the conversion and original of
the Scottish nation, and of the Picts and Caledonians; St. Andrew's relicks and
panegyrick, and the character and mission of the Apostles. On Wednesday, at
SIX or near the matter, take your chance, will be a medley oration on the history,
merits, and praise of Confusion and of Confounders in the road and out of the
ADVERTISEMENTS. 45
way. On Friday, will be that on Dr. Faustus and Fortunatus, and Conjuration;
after each the Climax of the Times, Nos. 23 and 24. — N.B. Whenever the prices
of the seats are occasionally raised in the week-days notice of it will be given in
the prints. An account of the performances of the Oratory from the first, to
August last, is published, with the Discourse on Nonsense ; and if any bishop,
clergyman, or other subject of his Majesty, or any foreign prince or state can, at
my years, and in my circumstances and opportunities, without the least assist-
ance or any partner in the world, parallel the study, choice, variety, and dis-
charge of the said performances of the Oratory by his own or any others, I en-
gage forthwith to quit the said Oratory. — J. Henley."
Medical quackery was in full blossom at the beginning of last century. In
1700 we are informed : — '' At the Angel and Crown, in Basing Lane, lives J.
Pechey, a graduate in the University of Oxford, and of many years standing in
the College of Physicians, London; where all sick people that come to him may
have, ybr sixpence, a faithful account of their diseases, and plain directions for
diet and other things they can prepare themselves ; and such as have occasion
for medicines may have them of him at reasonable rates, without paying any-
thing for advice ; and he will visit any sick person in London or the liberties
thereof, in the day-time, for two shillincjs and sixpence, and anywhere Avithin the
bills of mortality foY five shillings ; and if he be called by any person as he passes
by in any of these places, he will require but one shilling for advice." This ex-
cellently graduated tariff of charges might be recommended to the consideration
of the faculty at large. Dr. Herwig's announcement is more artistically put
together than Dr. Pechey 's : — '' Whereas, it has been industriously reported
that Dr. Herwig, who cures madness and most distempers by sympathy, has left
England and returned to Germany: this is to give notice, that he lives at the
same place, viz., at Mr. Gagelman's, in Suffolk Street, Charing Cross, about the
middle of the street, over against the green balcony.'' Lest, however, the supe-
riority of Dr. Herwig in the science of humbug should be attributed to his foreign
birth, we quote from the advertisements in the ' Tatler,' August 24 to 26, 1710,
the advertisement of an indigenous quack : — '' Whereas J. Moore, at the Pestle
and Mortar, in Abchurch Lane, London, having had some extraordinary busi-
ness which called me into the country for these five or six weeks last past, and
finding I have been very much wanted in my absence, by the multitude of
people which came to inquire for me ; these are to inform them that I am
returned, and am to be consulted with at my house as formerly." This class of
practitioners employed largely the services of the industrious fraternity of bill-
distributers — as, indeed, they are still their principal patrons. Malcolm, in
'Anecdotes of the Manners and Customs of London during the Eighteenth
Century,' has preserved rather an ingenious bill which men were engaged to
thrust into the hands of passengers : — " Your old friend Dr. Case desires you
not to forget him, althoiujh he has left the common way of hills'^
Some of the nostrums of these gentlemen must have been rather agreeable to
the taste. The following appears frequently in the ' Tatler :' — '' The famous
chymical quintessence of Bohea tea and cocoa-nuts together, wherein the volatile
salt, oil, and spirit of them both are chymically extracted and united, and in which
all the virtues of both tea and nut are essentially inherent, and is really a plea-
46 LONDON.
sant refreshing preparation, found, upon experience, to be the highest restorative
that either food or physic affords ; for, by it, all consumptive habits, decays of
nature, inward wastings, thin or emaciated constitutions, coughs, asthmas,
T)hthysics, loss of appetite, &c., are to a miracle retrieved, and the body, blood,
and spirits powerfully corroborated and restored. A few drops of it in a dish of
Bohea tea or chocolate is the most desirable breakfast or supper, and outvies for
virtue or nourishment twenty dishes without it, as those who have taken it will
find, and scarce ever live without it." Still more toothsome must have been the
*^ nectar and ambrosia " of Mr. Baker, bookseller, at Mercer s Chapel, " pre-
pared from the richest spices, herbs, and flowers, and done with rich French
brandy." This compound, " when originally invented, was designed only for
ladies' closets, to entertain visitors with, and for gentlemen's private drinking,
being much used that way'' but, zeal for the public, and the diffusion of useful
knowledge, stimulated Mr. Baker, the bookseller, to " offer it with twopenny
dram-glasses, which are sold inclosed in gilt frames, by the gallon, quart, or two-
shilling bottles.'' As to cosmetics and perfumes, the advertising columns of the
newspapers of Queen Anne's reign bloom with immortal youth, and are redolent
of " spicy gales from Araby the blest."
Unchanged, unchangeable is quackery of all sorts. But here is an advertise-
ment from the ' Tatler ' (April, 1710), which, like the Duchess of Buckingham's
foundling, carries us back into a state of society which has passed away : — ^' This
is to give notice, that Luke Clark, and William Clark, his brother, both middle-
sized men, brown complexions and brown wigs, went, as it appears by their
pocket-books, on the 18th of March last from London to Kingston; but, upon
examination, do not own what business they had there, nor where they were on
the 19th, 20th, and 21st of the same month ; but say, that on the 22nd they
came from London and got to Lincoln on the 23rd, and from thence to Castor,
and so to Whitegift Ferry; and on the 24th they came to Northcave, in the East
Riding of Yorkshire, and remaining there two or three days, without any ap-
pearance of business, were there seized by the constable ; and, for want of
sureties for their good behaviour, by a justice of peace were committed to York
Castle. There were found upon them four pistols of different sizes, charged,
with more bullets and powder ready made up in papers ; also two old black
velvet masks, and several fir matches dipped in brimstone. Their horses seem
to have been bred horses : the one being a large sorrel gelding, blind of the near
eye, his near fore-foot and further hind-foot white, which they say they bought
at the Greyhound, at Hyde Park Corner, on the 17th of March last ; the other,
a brown gelding, thought to be dim-sighted in both eyes, a little white on three
feet: they say they bought him in Smithfield the same day, and saw him
booked in the market-book. One of them had a grey riding-coat and straight-
bodied coat, both with black buttons; the other's riding-coat was something
lighter. If these men have done any robberies, or done anything contrary to
law, it is desired that notice thereof may be given within a reasonable time to
Mr. Mace, in York, clerk of the peace for the East Riding of Yorkshire, or else
these men will be discharged, being as yet only committed for want of sureties for
their good behaviour."
Perhaps the most curious feature of the advertising columns of the ' Tatler
is
ADVERTISEMENTS. 47
the immense number of private lotteries, announced under the convenient name
of sales, in the latter part of 1710. Dipping into "' the file," upon chance, we
find in the number for September 21-23: — "Mr. Stockton's sale of jewels,
plate, &c., to be drawn in the great room at the Duke of Marlborough's Head,
on Michaelmas-day, by parish boys and out of wheels." '' Mrs. Honeyman,
milliner, in Hungerford Street ; her twelvepenny sale of goods is put off till the
29th inst." "Mr. Guthridge's sixpenny sale, of goods, at the toy-shop over
against Norfolk Street in the Strand, continues." " Mrs. Help's sale of goods,
consisting of plate of considerable value, being near full, is to be drawn on
Tuesday sevennight at the stone-cutter's in Downing Street ;" and " Mr. William
Morris's proposals for several prizes ; 2500 tickets, in which there are 177 prizes,
the highest 100/., the lowest Hi*., and 13 blanks to a prize; half- a- crown the
ticket." This is rather below than above the average quantity of such adver-
tisements in a number of the ' Tatler* about that time. The temptations held
out to gamblers in this small way were varied in the extreme. One advertise-
ment " gives notice that Mr. Peters' sale of houses in Glouster Street, of 1000/.,
for half-a-crown, will be drawn within a fortnight at farthest." Another runs
thus : — " Tickets for the house on Blackheath, &c., to begin on Thursday the
7th September next, at the Bowling-green House on the said heath, where the
sale is to be ; at 2s. Q>d, per ticket ; the highest prize 220/., the lowest lOs.
Note, the house is let at 14/. 10=9. per an., and but one guinea per an. ground-
rent, the title clear and indisputable." The price of tickets for " Mrs. Symonds'
sale of a japanned cabinet and weighty plate, in which there is but 11 blanks
to a prize," was 5.y. each. Mr. William Morris, mentioned above, risked for his
2^. 6d. tickets '^a fine diamond cross, set transparent, with a button all brilliants,
plate, atlasses on silk, six silk nightgowns, and several other valuable things."
At Mrs. Mortly's India House, at the Two Green Canisters, on the pavement in
St. Martin's Lane, were to be had '' all sorts of Indian goods, lacquered ware,
China fans, screens, pictures, &c., with hollands, muslins, cambrics, fine em-
broidered and plain short aprons, and divers other things, to be disposed of for
blank lottery tickets, at 71. each, and the goods as cheap as for speci'e. These
were the ^^ great goes," but for persons of less ample purses there were " sales "
for which the tickets cost l^*., Gc/., 3d., and even as low as 2d. " Mrs. Painer's
threepenny sale of goods is to be drawn on Tuesday next, the 15th inst., at the
Queen's Head in Monmouth Street, Soho. There are some tickets yet to be
disposed of there, and at her own lodgings, a clockmaker's, over-against Dean's
Court in Dean's Street, St. Anne's; at Mrs. Williams', at Charing Cross, chand-
ler; and at the combmaker's in New Street, Covent Garden." These dis^j-uised
gambling-houses germinated and multiplied in every court and blind alley of
London, and the prices of the tickets were adapted to the pockets of all classes,
from the duchess to the cinder-wench, as the temptations were also suited to the
tastes of each. This was the great school of " njutual instruction," in which the
citizens of the metropolis of Great Britain trained themselves to act worthily the
parts they performed in the years of the Great South Sea Bubble, that colossal
specimen of self- swindling by a nation, compared with which our paltry modern
attempts — our Poyais kingdoms, Peruvian mining-companies, joint-stock com-
panies, of all shapes, colours, and sizes, dwarf and dwindle into insignificance.
48
LONDON.
This plan of getting rid of stale goods with profit is not yet altogether obso<
lete. The raffles for watches, old teapots, guns, and telescopes, which take place,
from time to time, in remote and obscure country-towns, to the inconceivable
excitement of their listless inhabitants, are the lingering antiquated fashions
which were once supreme mode and bon-ton in the metropolis. Nay, the thing
seems to be threatening to raise its head once more in London, and with a deli-
cious hypocrisy, under the pretext of patronising and improving British art. The
history of this ''revival" is brief. In Scotland — where the genius of economy is
rampant, and also the love of patronising, a number of amateurs have for some
years been in the habit of clubbing to buy pictures at the Edinburgh exhibitions,
and dividino- the spoil by lot. An imitative association was set on foot here, either
by picture-fanciers who had a mind to get pictures, or by artists who wished to get
their unsaleable stock out of their studios — no matter which. So far these asso-
ciations were what they gave themselves out for. The fashion has become con-
taf^-ious, and now we find, starting up in every street, *' little-goes" for the
"sale" (to adopt the phraseology of 1710) of printsellers' and picture- dealers'
unsaleable stock. The system is an admirable one for accelerating the empty-
ing of lumber rooms with advantage to their owners, and for increasing the
already portentous number of walls in respectable houses stuck all over with
stiff and glaring daubs. And this device for enabling demure conventional
moralists to indulge the taste for gambling inherent in all human beings, with
little apparent risk or breach of decorum, is trumpeted with the hundred Stentor-
power lungs of the puffing press as the day-dawn of a new and brilliant era in
British art! The truth is, that the " teapots," ''japanned cabinets," and " but-
tons of brilliants," which attracted the gulls of Queen Anne's reign, were quite
as much entitled to the epithet — " works of art," as the pieces of plastered
canvas vended by means of the London little-goes of the present day.
|;n.Tl,,«:'^;i'i',<r:^> i*
ajti^»iM,feM-v^-^
iii i; •
[East India House.]
CIV.— THE EAST INDIA HOUSE,
If the East India House only arrests the eye of the passenger, there is nothing
in the building itself particularly calculated to make him pause in the midst of
the busy thoroughfare of Leadenhall Street ; but if he be gifted with the divine
faculty of accurately delineating and colouring abstractions, then, indeed, it
yields to none in the interest of the associations which cluster thick around it.
It has been said of Burke, by a very brilliant writer of the present day, that so
vivid was his imagination on whatever related to India, especially as to the
country and people, that they had become as familiar to him as the objects which
lay on the road between Beaconsfield and St. James's. " All India was present
to the eye of his mind, from the hall where suitors laid gold and perfumes at the
feet of sovereigns, to the wild moor where the gipsy-camp was pitched — from
the bazaars, humming like bee-hives with the crowd of buyers and sellers, to the
jungle where the lonely courier shakes his bunch of iron rings to scare away the
hyaenas. The burning sun; the strange vegetation of the palm and cocoa-tree ;
the rice-field and the tank ; the huge trees, older than the Mogul empire, under
VOL. V. E
50 LONDON.
which the village crowds assemble ; the thatched roof of the peasant's hut, and
the rich tracery of the mosque where the imaum prayed with his face to Mecca ;
the drums, and banners, and gaudy idols; the devotee swinging in the air;
the graceful maiden, with the pitcher on her head, descending the steps to the
river side ; the black faces, the long beards, the yellow streaks of sect ; the tur-
bans and the flowing robes ; the spears and the silver maces ; the elephants with
their canopies of state ; the gorgeous palankin of the prince, and the close litter
of the noble lady — all these things were to him as the objects amidst which his
own life had been passed." '' If such should be the rich, varied, and animated
picture which the imaginative eye suddenly conjures up in the not very spacious
or striking part of the great eastern thoroughfare in which the India House
comes into view, not less glowing are the historical recollections which attach to
the edifice in connexion with Anglo-Indian power. History presents nothing
more strongly calculated to impress the imagination than the progress of English
dominion in the East under Clive and Warren Hastings, and Cornwallis and
Wellesley. Instead of clerks and mercantile agents living within the precincts
of a fort or factory only by permission of the native rulers, who regarded them as
mere pedlers, Englishmen have become the administrators of the judicial, finan-
cial, and diplomatic business of a great country, — of provinces comprising above
a million square miles and a population exceeding one hundred and twenty mil-
lions,— states which yield taxes to the amount of 17,000,000/. and maintain an
armv of four hundred thousand men. All the business of government has passed
into English hands. There is still a Nabob of the Carnatic, but he is a British pen-
sioner on the revenues of the land which his ancestors once ruled. At the capital
of the Nizam a British resident, the representative of the East India Company,
is the real sovereign. There is still a Mogul who plays the sovereign, but the
substance of his power has passed away. Youths from Haileybury College, and
from the military school at Addiscombe, rising by regular gradations, have suc-
ceeded to the power once wielded by the Mahommedan conquerors of Hindostan,
and which they exercise in a manner far more beneficial to the people. They are
carefully educated for judicial, financial, diplomatic, and military offices, and are
expected to be versed in the language of the people of whose welfare they are to
be the guardians. This is a noble field for talent and ambition. When we first
attempted to share with the Portuguese and Dutch in the commerce of the East,
the qualifications required were but little higher than are now esteemed necessary
in a custom-house officer of the lowest class. A turbulent youth was sent out to
die of a fever, or to make his fortune. The salaries were so low that it was impos-
sible to live upon them, and all sorts of irregular and unscrupulous practices were
connived at, which saved the pockets of the adventurers at home at the expense
of the native interests. The writer already quoted shows the present and former
state of official servants in India. *'At present," he says, "a writer enters the
service young ; he climbs slowly ; he is rather fortunate if, at forty-five, he can
return to his country with an annuity of a thousand a-year, and with savings
amounting to thirty thousand pounds. A great quantity of wealth is made by
* ' Edinburgh Review,' No. 142, Article on Lord Clive.
THE EAST INDIA HOUSE. 51
English functionaries in India ; but no single functionary makes a very large
fortune, and what is made is slowly, hardly, and honestly earned. Only four or
five high political offices are reserved for public men from England. The resi-
dencies, the secretaryships, the seats in the boards of revenue and in the Sudder
courts are all filled by men who have given the best years of life to the service
of the Company ; nor can any talents, however splendid, nor any connexions,
however powerful, obtain those lucrative posts for any person who has not entered
by the regular door and mounted by the regular gradations. Seventy years ago
much less money was brought home than in our time, but it was divided among
a very much smaller number of persons, and immense sums were often accumu-
lated in a few months. Any Englishman, Avhatever his age, might hope to be
one of the lucky emigrants." A new class of men sprung up at this period, to
whom the appellation of ' Nabobs ' was given : the ephemeral literature of that
day is filled with the popular conceptions of the character, and the nabob is
usually represented as ^' a man with an immense fortune, a tawny complexion,
a bad liver, and a worse heart." The public mind for thirty years was filled
with impressions of their wealth and supposed crimes.
The progress of good government is nowhere more evident at the present time
than in the administration of India. Even if the misgovernment now existed by
which individuals could amass immense wealth, other circumstances would be
entirely wanting to render the retired Indian a veritable Nabob of the old school,
as he exists, somewhat caricatured of course, in the play and novel of seventy
years ago. At that period the voyage to or from India was seldom accom-
plished in less than six months, and often occupied a much longer time : a year
and a half was calculated as the average period between the dispatch of a report
from Calcutta and the receipt of the adjudication thereon by the Directors in
Leadenhall Street. Slow, tedious, uncertain, and unfrequent as was the intercourse
of the servants of the East India Company Avith the mind of England in those days,
what could be expected but that it should produce strong effects on those who
went out in youth and spent thirty years of their life in India, and that at their
return they should exhibit some rich peculiarities of character, easily assailable
by the light shafts of ridicule, if not open to the violent attacks of those who sus-
pected them of dark crimes committed in their distant pro-consulships while
amassing their wealth ? Even Warren Hastings, so consummate a politician in
India, was at fault when he had to deal with party interests and feelings at
home : he had lost that fine and delicate appreciation of things which is gained
by observation from day to day. Steam navigation has done and will do much
to elevate the character and objects of our Indian policy, and to imbue its func-
tionaries with more enlarged views of their duties ; for rapidity and certainty of
communication is gradually bringing the eyes of the people upon this distant
part of our empire. Steam has placed Bombay v/ithin five weeks* distance of
London,* and the seat of the supreme government in India has been reached in
|six weeks from the seat of the imperial government. Private intercourse is
irapidly increasing in consequence of these great improvements. Before the
* In August, 1841, the London mail reached Bombay in thirty-one days and five hours.
e2
52 LONDON.
establishment of lines of steam-communication with India in 1836, the number
of letters annually received and dispatched from the several presidencies and
from Ceylon was 300,000. In 1840, the number had risen to 616,796, and to
840,070 in 1841. The number of newspapers sent from India to Europe in 1841
was about 80,000; and 250,000 were sent to India; and in 1842 it is believed
that 400,000 were sent both ways, each cover being counted as one, though it^
might contain several newspapers. A man in the jungles may now be as well
informed on the leading topics of the day in England, as if he were the daily fre-
quenter of a news-room here. The peculiarities which seemed unavoidable at
one period have scarcely ground now on which to take root.
It was in the reign of Queen Elizabeth that the capture of a Portuguese ship
laden with gold, pearls, spices, silks, and ivory called forth a body of merchant
adventurers, who subscribed a fund amounting to something above 30,000/., and
petitioned Her Majesty for a warrant to fit out three ships, the liberty of ex- |
porting bullion (then deemed wealth, instead of its representative), and a charter
of incorporation excluding from the trade all parties not licensed by themselves.
While the discussions were pending the petitioners stated, in reply to an appli-
cation from the government, who wished to employ Sir Edward Michelbourne
on the expedition, that they were resolved " not to employ any gentleman in any
})lace of charge," and requested " that they may be allowed to sort theire business
with men of their own qualitye, lest the suspicion of the employment of gentle-
men being taken hold uppon by the generalitie do dry ve a great number of the
adventurers to withdraw their contributions." A Charter was granted on the
last day of the sixteenth century to George,- Earl of Cumberland, and 215
knights, aldermen, and merchants, under the title of the '' Governor and Com-
pany of Merchants of London trading into the East Indies," with exclusive
liberty of trading for fifteen years, and a promise of renew^al at the end of that
term, if the plan should be found ^' not prejudicial or hurtful to this our realm."
A century later the English had made such little progress in India, in compari-
son with the Portuguese, that, in 1698, it was compulsory on the ministers and
schoolmasters sent to the English establishments in India to learn the Portuguese
language.
The exclusive Charter of Queen Elizabeth was not at first respected by her
successor, who, in 1604, issued a licence to Sir Edward Michelbourne and other
persons to trade to the East, but he was subsequently persuaded to adopt a dif-
ferent policy ; and on the 31st of May, 1609, he renewed the Company's Charter
*' for ever," but providing that it might be recalled on three years' notice being
given, with some additional privileges, which encouraged the Company to build
the largest merchant-ship that England had hitherto possessed : she was named
the ' Trades Encrease,' and measured eleven hundred tons : at her launch the
King and several of the nobility dined on board, and were served entirely upon
china-ware, which was then a very costly rarity, and appropriate to the destina-
tion of the vessel. The direction of the Company was put under twenty-four
committees ; the word committee signifying then, as we believe it does still in
Scotland, a person to whom any matter is intrusted. |It was at first hardly a
Company : each adventure was managed by associations of individual members
THE EAST INDIA HOUSE. 53
on their own account, acting generally according to their own pleasure^ but con-
forming to certain established regulations made for the benefit of the whole body.
But in 1612, after twelve voyages had been made to the East Indies, the whole
capital subscribed, amounting to 429,000/., was united, the management of the
business was committed to a few principal parties, and the great body maintained
such a general control as in recent times has been exercised by the Court of Pro-
prietors. During the whole of the century the history of the Company is chiefly
a narrative of mercantile transactions, but somewhat more interesting than those
of our days from their adventurous character, and diversified by the accounts of
quarrels, battles, and occasional treaties with the Portuguese and Dutch, who
were very unwilling to admit a commercial rival.
Turning to the London history of the Company, we find the seventeenth cen-
tury marked by several events which deserve to be briefly noticed as illustrative
of the times. In 1623, just before the departure of a fleet for India, the Duke
of Buckingham, then Lord High- Admiral, extorted the sum of 10,000/. before
he ^^^ould allow it to sail : the bribe was given to avoid a claim for droits of
Admiralty on prize-money alleged to have been obtained at Ormuz and other
places. A like sum was demanded for the King, but it does not appear to have
been paid. In 1635 Charles I. granted to Captain John Weddell and others a
licence to trade for five years : the inducement to this violation of the Charter
was probably the share which the King was to receive of the profits. In 1640
Charles I. being in want of money, bought upon credit the whole stock of pepper
in the Company's Avarehouses^ amounting to 607,522 lbs., and sold it again for
ready money at a lower price. Four bonds were given to the Company for the
amount, payable at intervals of six months, but none of them were paid. In 1642
13,000/. was remitted of the duties owing by the Company, but the remaining
sum of about 50,000/. was never received. In 1655 the Republican Government
threw the trade to India entirely open. The experiment of a free trade was not
fairly tried, as the Company was reinstated in its monopoly only two years after-
wards. In 1661 Charles II. granted the Company a new Charter, conferring
larger privileges — the power of making peace and war. The year 1667-8 is the
first in which tea became an article of the Company's trade. The agents were
desired to send home *' 100 lb. weight of the best tey that you can gett." In
1836 the quantity of tea consumed in the United Kingdom amounted to fifty
million pounds within a fraction — the duty on which was 4,674,535/., or more
than one-twelfth of the whole revenue. In this same year 1667-8 the Company
dispatched sixteen ships to India with the largest investment which had yet been
sent out, the value of bullion and stock being 245,000/. In 1G81 the Spitalfields
weavers, thinking themselves injured by the importation of wrought silks,
chintzes, and calicoes from India, riotously assembled about the India House,
using violent threats against the directors.
From 1690 to 1693 a dispute existed as to whether the right of conferring a
Charter for exclusive privileges of trade devolved upon the Sovereign or the
Parliament. In the former year the House of Commons decided the question in
their own favour, and addressed the King upon the subject, but in 1693 the King
granted a new Charter for twenty-one years, upon which the House again
54 LONDON.
affirmed its right, and not only passed a resolution to that effect, but directed an
inquiry into the circumstances attending the renewal, when it was ascertained
that it had been procured by a distribution of 90,000Z. to some of the highest
officers in the State. Sir Thomas Cooke, a member, and governor of the Com-
pany, was committed to the Tower for refusing to answer the questions put to
him ; and the Duke of Leeds, who filled the office of President of the Council, was
impeached on a charge of having received a bribe of 5000Z. Further exposures
were put a stop to by the prorogation of Parliament. Five years afterwards, in
1698, without much show of reason or justice, the Old Company, which had now
been in existence nearly a century, was dissolved, three years being allowed for
winding up its business. A New Company, incorporated by the name of the
" English Company," was invested with the privileges of exclusive trade. The
members composing the new body had outbid the older one by offering to lend
the Government a larger sum of money. In 1700 the Old Company obtained an
act authorising them to trade under the Charter of the New Company. The exist-
ence of two trading bodies led to disputes and rivalry, which benefited neither^and
exposed them both to the tyranny of the native princes. The capital of the Eng-
lish Company was absorbed by the loan which it had made to Government as a
bonus for its privileges, but the older body naturally profited from the greater
experience of its members. In 1702 an act was passed for uniting the two Com-
panies, which was completely effected in 1708, seven years having been allowed
to make the preparatory arrangements. The united bodies were entitled '' The
United Company of Merchants of England trading to the East Indies," a title
which was borne until the abolition of its trading privileges in 1834. The exclu-
sive privileges of the Company were successively renewed in 1712, 1730, 1744,
1781, 1793, and 1813. Very important changes were made on the renewal of the
Charter in 1781. The Government stipulated that all dispatches for India
should be communicated to the Cabinet before being sent off ; and they obtained
a decisive voice in questions of peace and war. This was a prelude to the esta-
blishment of the Board of Control in 1784, by which, in everything but patron-
age and trade, the Court of Directors were rendered subordinate to the Govern-
ment. In 1794 a slight infringement was made on the Company's Charter by a
clause enabling private merchants to export goods to or from India in the Com-
pany's ships, according to a rate of freight fixed by act of Parliament, the Com-
pany being required to furnish shipping to the amount of three thousand tons
annually to the private traders. In 1813 the rights of the private traders were
still further extended. In the twenty years from 1813 to 1833, the value of
goods exported by the private trade increased from about one million sterling
per annum to three and a-half millions, a much larger amount than had ever
been exported by the Company.
In 1833 the act was passed by which the Company is now governed. This
act has made greater changes in the state of affairs than all the former ones. It
continues the government of India in the hands of the Company until 1854, but
takes away the China monopoly and all trading whatever. As the proprietors
were no longer a body of merchants, their name was necessarily changed, and it
was enacted that '' The East India Company " should be their future appeila-
THE EAST INDIA HOUSE. 55
tion. Their warehouses, and the greatest part of their property, were directed
to be sold : the dividend was to be lOJ per cent., chargeable on the revenues of
India, and redeemable by Parliament after the year 1874. The amount of divi-
dends guaranteed by the act is 630,000/., being 10 J per cent, on a nominal capital
of 6,000,000/. The real capital of the Company in 1832 was estimated at up-
wards of 21,000,000/., including cash, goods, buildings, and 1,294,768/. as the
estimated value of the East India House and the Company's warehouses, the
prime cost of the latter having been 1,100,000/. The act directs that accounts
of the Company's revenues, expenditure, and debts are to be laid before Parlia-
ment every year in May ; also lists of their establishments, with salaries and
allowances paid on all accounts. Englishmen were allowed to purchase lands
and to reside in all parts of India, with some exceptions, which were removed in
1837. These, and several other enactments relating to India only, have altered
in a great measure the character of the Company.
For some time after the English began to trade to the East, no footing was
obtained on the Continent of India. The first factory was at Bantam, in Java,
which was established in 1602; a few years afterwards there were factories in
Siam; and in 1612, after many attempts, a firman was obtained from the Great
Mogul allowing certain privileges at Surat, which was a long time the head of
all our trade in India. This firman was granted, or at least accelerated, by the
success of the English in four naval fights with the Portuguese, whom the natives
had believed to be invincible. In the same year the English received several
commercial privileges from the Sultan of Achin, in Sumatra, who requested in
return that two English ladies might be sent to him, to add to the number of his
wives ! In the following year they established a factory at Firando, in Japan ;
and by 1615 the number of factories in the East amounted to nineteen. In 1618
the Company placed agents at Gombroon in Persia, and Mocha in Arabia. In
1639 they received from the native chief of the territory around Madras power
to exercise judicial authority over the inhabitants of that place, and to erect a
fort there. This was Fort St. George ; it was the first establishment possessed
in India that was destined to become a place of importance : it was raised to the
rank of a Presidency in 1653. The first footing in Bengal, the source of all the
subsequent power of England in India, was obtained in 1652. The immediate
means of this privilege are curious. In the year 1645 a daughter of Shah
Jehan, the Great Mogul, had been severely burnt, and an express was sent to
Surat to procure an English surgeon. A Mr. Broughton was sent, who cured
the princess and attained to great favour at court : from Delhi he passed into
the service of Prince Shujah, with whom he resided when the prince entered
upon the Governorship of Bengal, and Mr. Broughton's influence there obtained
for his countrymen the privilege of trading custom-free, which was confirmed by
a firman of Aurungzebe in 1680. Bombay, which had been ceded by Portugal
to Charles II. as part of the marriage portion of the Princess Catherine, was
made over by him to the Company in 1668. Calcutta was founded in 1692 on
the site of a village named Govindpore, and the possession received an important
increase in 1717, when the Mogul granted a patent enabling the English to pur-
chase thirty-seven towns in the vicinity. This accession was obtained by the
56 LONDON.
influence of another surgeon, a Mr. Hamilton, who had cured the Mogul of a
dangerous disease. The system of uniting the separate factories under larger
jurisdictions, named presidencies, was now fully established : Madras had been
the eastern presidency from the middle of the century to 1682, when Bengal was
separated ; and Surat had held supremacy over the western coast from 1660
until 1687, when Bombay was made the head of all the establishments in India.
By the end of the century the three presidencies, Bengal, Madras, and Bombay,
were distinguished as they still are, with the exception that Bengal was not then
the seat of the Supreme Government, a distinction which was given to it by an
Act passed in 1773, when Warren Hastings was made Governor- General.
The Home Government of the Company consists of, 1st. The Court of Pro-
prietors, or General Court ; 2nd. The Court of Directors, selected from the pro-
prietors ; and 3rd. The Board of Commissioners, usually called the Board of
Control, nominated by the Sovereign.
The Court of Proprietors, or General Courts as its name imports, is composed
of the owners of India Stock. It appears that, in the seventeenth century, every
stockholder had a voice in the distribution of the funds of the Company : the act
of 1693 provided that no person should vote in the General Courts who had less
than 1 000/. of stock, and that larger owners should have as many votes as they
held thousands ; but that no person should have more than ten votes. The
qualification for one vote was, by the act of 13th April, 1689, lowered to 500/.,
and the number of votes limited to five, which was the number allowed to a
holder of 4000^. stock. By the act of 5th September, 1698, every owner of 500/.
stock was allowed one vote, and the greatest owners had no more. By the law
now in force, which was made in 1773, the possession of 1000/. gives one vote,
although persons having only 500/. may be present at the Court : 3000/. entitles
the owner to two votes, 6000/. to three, and 10,000/. to four votes. All persons
Avhatever may be members of this Court, male or female. Englishman or foreigner.
Christian or unbeliever. The Court of Proprietors elects the Court of Directors,
frames bye-laws, declares the dividend, controls grants of money exceeding 600/.,
and additions to salaries above 200/. It would appear that the executive power
of this Court, having been delegated to the Court of Directors, may be considered
as extinct ; at all events it never now interferes with acts of government, although
instances have formerly occurred where acts of the Court of Directors have been
revised by it. Its functions in fact are deliberative : they are like those of in-
fluential public meetings in the English constitution, and its resolutions are sup-
posed to be respectfully attended to by the Directors, and even by the Legisla-
ture. It is always called together to discuss any proceedings in Parliament
likely to affect the interests of the Company. It may, at any time, call for copies
of public documents to be placed before the body for deliberation and discussion ;
and is empowered to confer a public mark of approbation, pecuniary or other-
wise, on any individual whose services may appear to merit the distinction, sub-
ject however to the approbation of the Board of Control, in cases where the sum
shall exceed 600/.
The meetings of this Court have much the appearance of those of the House
, of Commons, and its discussions are conducted by nearly the same rules.
THE EAST INDIA HOUSE. 57-
The Chairman of the Court of Directors presides ex-officio, and questions
are put through him as through the Speaker. There is occasionally a display
of eloquence which would not disgrace the Senate, though more frequently per-
haps the matters debated are hardly of sufficient general interest to produce so
much excitement. Amendments are proposed, adjournments are moved, the
previous question is put, the Court rings with cries of *' Hear, hear,'* '^ Oh, oh !'*
&c. &c., and a tedious speaker is coughed down as effectually as he would be on
the floor of the House of Commons. At the conclusion of a debate the question
is often decided by a show of hands ; but if any Proprietor doubts the result, he
may call for a division, when tellers are appointed, and the Court divides ac-
cordingly. In especial cases any nine members may call for an appeal to the
general body of Proprietors, to whom timely notice is sent, and the vote is by
ballot. The meetings always take place at twelve o'clock, and generally close
at dusk : in cases of great interest they are much later, and in a recent instance
the debate continued until two o'clock in the following morning. The number
of members of the Court of Proprietors, in 1843, is 1880, of whom 333 have two
votes, 64 three, and 44 four votes. In 1825 there were 2003 proprietors. In 1 773,
when all owners of stock amounting to 500/. had each one vote, and none had a
plurality, the number of proprietors was 2153, of whom 812 held stock to the amount
of more than 1000/. each. The interest taken by the public in Indian affairs was
much greater then than is the case at present, and the proceedings of the Court
of Proprietors, as described by one who has made the affairs of India his study,
were " stormy and even riotous — the debates indecently virulent." He adds : —
^' All the turbulence of a Westminster election, all the trickery and corruption
of a Grampound election, disgraced the proceedings of this assembly on ques-
tions of the most solemn importance. Fictitious votes were manufactured on a
gigantic scale." "^ It is said that during Clive's visit to his native country, in
1763, he laid out a hundred thousand pounds in the purchase of India stock,
which he then divided among nominal proprietors whom he brought down at
every discussion ; and other wealthy persons did the same, though not to an
equal extent. The whole of the Directors were at this period appointed annu-
ally. At present each Director is elected for four years, and six retire yearly,
and are not re-eligible until they have been a year out of office. The chairman
and deputy- chairman are elected annually, and generally the deputy becomes
chairman after being a year in the deputy-chair. They are the organs of the
Court, and conduct all communication requiring a personal intercourse with the
Ministry and Board of Commissioners. It is believed that by far the greater
share of the labour of the Court falls on the chairs ; and that, great as is the pa-
tronage connected with the offices, they are by no means objects of ambition to
the majority of the members.
The functions of the Court of Directors pertain to all matters relating to
India, both at home and abroad ; subject to the control of the Board of Com-
missioners, and, in some cases, to the concurrence of the Court of Proprietors,
with the exception always of such high political matters as require secrecy, which
* ' Edinburgli Review,' No. U%
58 LONDON.
are referred to a select committee of their body. This Court has the power to
nominate the Governors of all the Presidencies, subject to the approval of the
Crown. They have also the patronage of all other appointments, without con-
trol from the Board. The Committee of Secrecy, first appointed in 1784, consists
of three members of the Court, who receive the directions of the Board on sub-
jects connected with peace, war, or negotiations with other powers, and send dis-
patches to India under their directions, without communication with the rest of
the Court. This Committee also receive dispatches from India sent in the
Secret department, and communicate them immediately to the Board. The
duties of the Court of Directors are extensive, and for their ready dispatch it is
divided into three Committees, whose departments are indicated by their appel-
lations :— the Finance and Home Committee ; the Political and Military Com-
mittee ; and the Revenue, Judicial, and Legislative Committee.
The Board of Control, whose proper designation is " the Board of Commis-
sioners for the Affairs of India," was established by the Act of 1784. The Board
is nominated by the sovereign : it consists of an unlimited* number of members,
all of whom, except two, must be of the Privy Council, and must include the two
principal Secretaries of State and the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Practically,
all the Commissioners are honorary, except three, who alone are paid. All the
members of the Board vacate office upon changes of ministry, but the unpaid
ones are ofteij re-appointed. The Board receive from the Court, and may con-
firm, alter, or disallow all minutes, orders, and dispatches ; they may not only
keep back dispatches prepared by the Court, but may compel the Court to send
others prepared without the Court's concurrence. They have access to all
books, papers, and documents in the East India House, and may call for accounts
on any subject. They communicate with the Secret Committee, and direct it to
send secret dispatches to India, the responsibility resting with the Board. In
fact, since the abolition of the trade, with which the Board had nothing to do,
the Court of Directors must be considered simply as the instrument of the
Board.
The routine of business as transacted between the Court and Board is simple.
On the receipt of a dispatch from India, it is referred to the Committee in whose
province it lies, and from it to the proper department ; the chief of Avhich causes
a draught of a reply to be made under his superintendence, which he first sub-
mits to the Chairs ; the Chairman brings the draught before the Committee, by
whom it is considered and approved, or revised, and then laid before the Court.
The draught is there discussed, and, when approved, sent to the Board. If the
Board approve the draught, it is returned, and dispatched forthwith by the
Court: if altered, the alterations may become a subject of correspondence and
remonstrance with the Board, with whom, however, the final decision lies. If
the Chairs judge that any serious discussion is likely to arise upon any dispatch,
they make, unofficially, a previous communication to the Board, and the matter
is discussed before it is laid before the Court.
Smce the functions of the Company have become wholly political, the esta-
* They were limited to six by the Act of 1784, but this clause was repealed in 1793.
THE EAST INDIA HOUSE. 59
blishment at the East India House is necessarily much reduced from what it was
when, in addition to other duties^ it had the direction and control of commercial
concerns which required the constant emplo3^ment of nearly four thousand men in
its warehouses. Before the closing of its trade the number of clerks of all grades
was above four hundred.* This number was not more than was really necessary.
The duties of no public office in England can give a fair notion of what was
required at the East India House^ from the circumstance that the latter was a
compendium of all the offices of government, including a department for the
transfer of stock ; and was in addition a great mercantile establishment. The
departments were necessarily numerous. The military department superintended
the recruiting for the Indian army, the embarkation of troops for India, the
management of military stores, &c. There was a shipping department and
master-attendant's office, whose functions are obvious from their appellations :
an auditor's office to conduct all financial matters relative to India — a sort of
Indian exchequer. The examiner's office managed the great political concerns
of the Company. There were an accountant's office, a transfer office, a trea-
sury, to investigate all matters relating to bills and certificates granted in India,
China, or elsewhere on the Company, and to compare advices with bills when
presented ; to prepare estimates and statements of stock, &c. for the Lords of
the Treasury, the Parliament, and the Courts; to conduct all business relating
to the sale and transfer of stock ; to provide for the payment of dividends and of
interest on bonds, to negotiate loans, to purchase bullion, and to manage sales of
specie from India or China. The office of buying and warehouses managed the
whole of the trade, both export and import : its functions were to prepare orders for
India and China produce so as to suit the home markets, and to provide goods here
for sale in India and China ; to superintend the purchase and export of military
stores, and to manage the business of fifteen warehouses^ employing nearly four
thousand men, and in the article tea alone containing often fifty millions pounds
weight (above 22,000 tons !) The Committee, of which this was the chief office, had
also the superintendence of the sales. The value of goods sold in the year
1834-5 amounted to 5,089,77/. Those of tea were the most extensive, and they
are yet remembered with a sort of dread by all who had anything to do with them.
They were held only four times a-year — in March, June, September, and Decem-
ber ; and the quantity disposed of at each sale was in consequence very large,
amounting on many recent occasions to 8J millions of pounds, and sometimes
much higher : they lasted several days, and it is within our recollection that
1,200,000 lbs. have been sold in one day. The only buyers were the tea-brokers,
composed of about thirty firms : each broker was attended by the tea-dealers
who engaged his services, and who communicated their wishes by nods and
winks. In order to facilitate the sale of such large quantities, it was the prac-
tice to put up all the teas of one quality before proceeding to those of another ;
and to permit each bidder to proceed without much interruption so long as he
confined his biddings to the variation of a farthing for what was technically
* A parliamentary document of 1835 gives the number of persons in the home establishment at 494, at salaries
amounting to 134,451^. This includes door -porters, fire-lighters, watchmen, messengers, &c. The number of
clerks now in the House is about 150.
60 LONDON.
called the upper and under lot ; but as soon as he began to waver, or that it
appeared safe to advance another farthing, the uproar became quite frightful to
one unaccustomed to it. It often amounted to a howling and yelling which
might have put to shame an O. P. row, and, although thick walls intervened, it
frequently was heard by the frequenters of Leadenhall Market. All this uproar,
which would induce a stranger to anticipate a dreadful onslaught, was usually
quelled by the finger of the chairman pointing to the next buyer, whose biddings
would be allowed to go on with comparative quietness, but was sure to be suc-
ceeded by a repetition of the same noise as at first. At the indigo sales much
the same sort of scene took place.
The above and several minor departments usually kept the establishment fully
engaged ; and, though there were days in which a smaller body might have done
the current work of the House, there were many in which the whole force of the
establishment was absolutely necessary. The mere reading through, and 'com-
menting on, the voluminous explanatory matter received from the Indian Govern-
ments, in addition to the dispatches, was no small labour. Of such matter there
were received, from 1793 to 1813, 9094 large folio volumes, or 433 per annum;
and from that year to 1829 the number was 14,414, or 776 a-year. Facility in
composition is as necessary a qualification in public men in India, as speaking
to a politician at home ; and it has been observed that, while the latter is often too
much of a talker, in India he is rather too much of an essayist. Testimony to
the industry and ability of the East India clerks was borne by Mr. Canning, in a
debate on the 14th March, 1822. This statesman, who had been several years
President of the Board of Commissioners, said, " He had seen a military dispatch
accompanied with 199 papers, containing altogether 13,511 pages; another, a
judicial dispatch, with an appendage of 1937 pages ; and a dispatch on the reve-
nue, with no fewer than 2588 pages by its side. Much credit was due to the
servants of the East India Company. The papers received from them were drawn
up with a degree of accuracy and talent that would do credit to any ofnce in the
State. The Board could not, with all the talents and industry of the President,
the Commissioners, or their tried Secretary, have transacted the business
devolved upon it, without the talents and industry with which that business was
prepared for them at the India House."
We shall conclude with a description of the East India House. It does not
appear to be ascertained where the Company first transacted their business, but
the tradition of the House is, that it was in the great room of ' The Nag's Head
Inn,' opposite Bishopsgate Church, where there is now a Quakers' Meeting
Plouse. The maps of London, constructed soon after the great fire, place the
India House in Leadenhall Street, on a part of its present site. It is probably
the house, of which an unique plate is preserved in the British Museum, sur-
mounted by a huge, square-built mariner, and two thick dolphins. In the Inden-
ture of Conveyance of the Dead Stock of the Companies, dated 22nd July, 1702,
we find that Sir William Craven, of Kensington, in the year 1701, leased to the
Company his large house in Leadenhall Street, and a tenement in Lime Street,
for twenty-one years, at 100/. a-year. Upon the site of this house what is called
the old East India House was built in 1726; and several portions of this old
THE EAST INDIA HOUSE.
61
House yet remain, although the present fronts and great part of the house, were
added, in 1799, by Mr. Jupp.
[Old East India House, 1726.]
The facade of the existing building is 200 feet in length, and is of stone. The
portico is composed of six large Ionic fluted columns on a raised basement, and
it gives an air of much magnificence to the whole, although the closeness of the
street makes it somewhat gloomy. The pediment is an emblematic sculpture
by Bacon, representing the Commerce of the East protected by the King of
Great Britain, who stands in the centre of a number of figures, holding a shield
stretched over them. On the apex of the pediment stands a statue of Britan-
nia: Asia, seated upon a dromedary, is at the left corner; and Europe, on
horseback, at the right.
The ground-floor is chiefly occupied by court and committee rooms, and by
the Directors' private rooms. The Court of Directors occupy what is usually
termed the ' Court Room,' while that in which the Court of Proprietors assemble
is called the ' General Court Room.' The Court Room is said to be an exact cube
of 30 feet : it is splendidly ornamented by gilding and by large looking-glasses ;
and the eff'ect of its too great height is much diminished by the position of the
windows near the ceiling. Six pictures hang from the cornice, representing the
three Presidencies, the Cape, St. Helena, and Tellichery. A fine piece of
sculpture, in white marble, is fixed over the chimney : Britannia is seated on a
globe by the seashore, receiving homage from three female figures, intended for
Asia, Africa, and India. Asia oflers spices with her right hand, and with her left
leads a camel; India presents a large box of jewels, which she holds half open;
and Africa rests her hand upon the head of a lion. The Thames, as a river-god.
62 LONDON.
stands upon the shore ; a labourer appears cording a large bale of merchan-
dise, and ships are sailing in the distance. The whole is supported by two cary-
atid fiti-ures, intended for brahmins, but really fine old European-looking philo-
sophers.
The General Court Eoom, which until the abolition of the trade was the Old
Sale Koom, is close to the Court Room. Its east side is occupied by rows of
scats which rise from the floor near the middle of the room towards the ceiling,
backed by a gallery where the public are admitted : on the floor are the seats for
the chairman, secretary, and clerks. Against the west wall, in niches, are six
statues of persons who have distinguished themselves in the Company's service :
Lord Clive, Warren Hastings, and the Marquis Cornwallis occupy those on the
left, and Sir Eyre Coote, General Lawrance, and Sir George Pococke those on the
right. It is understood that the statue of the Marquis Wellesley will be placed
in the vacant space in the middle. The Finance and Home Committee Room
is the best room in the house, with the exception of the Court Rooms, and is
decorated with some good pictures. One wall is entirely occupied by a represent-
ation of the grant of the Dewannee to the Company in 1765, the foundation of all
the British power in India; portraits of Warren Hastings and of the Marquis
Cornwallis stand beside the fireplace ; and the remaining walls are occupied by
other pictures, among which may be noticed the portrait of Mirza Abul Hassan,
the Persian Envoy, who excited a good deal of attention in London in the year
1809.
The upper part of the house contains the principal offices and the Library
and Museum. In the former is perhaps the most splendid collection of Oriental
MSS. in Europe, and, in addition, a copy of almost every printed work relating
to Asia : to this, of course, the public is not admitted ; but any student, properly
recommended, is allowed the most liberal access to all parts of it. We may
instance, as worthy of all imitation, where buildings contain articles of value, that
large tanks, always full of water, stand upon the roof of the building, and that
pipes, with stop-cocks, extend from them to all parts of the house, so arranged
that, in case of fire, any of the watchmen connected with the establishment can at
once deluge that part with water enough to repel any apprehension of its spread-
ing beyond the spot.
The opening of the Museum at the India House to the public once a-week, on
Saturdays, from eleven to three, is a creditable act of liberality on the part of
the Directors. The rooms appropriated to this purpose are not a continuous
suite, but a passage leading from one suite to another contains paintings,
prints, and drawings, illustrative of Indian scenery and buildings ; also models
of a Chinese war -junk, a Sumatran proa, together with a few objects of natural
history, as remarkable specimens of bamboo, &c. This passage leads to three
small side-rooms, the first of which contains a Burmese musical instrument,
shaped somewhat like a boat, and having a vertical range of nearly horizontal
strings, which were probably played by means of a plectrum, or Avooden peg.
Opposite is a case illustrative of the state of the useful arts in India, containing
models of looms, ploughs, mills, smiths' bellows, coaches and other vehicles,
windlass, pestle and mortar, &c. This room also contains specimens illustrating
THE EAST INDIA HOUSE.
63
[The Museum.]
the manufacturing processes of Oriental nations^ with some objects of natural
history. The next room is wholly devoted to natural history. In the third room
there is another curious Burmese musical instrument, consisting of twenty-three
flattish pieces of wood, from ten to fifteen inches in length, and about an inch
and a half in width : these bars are strung together so as to yield dull and sub-
dued musical notes when struck with a cork hammer ; and their sizes are so ad-
justed as to furnish tones forming about three octaves in the diatonic scale. At
the end of the corridor is a tolerably large room, containing a number of glass
cases filled with specimens of Asiatic natural history. There are Indian, Siamese,
and Javanese birds, Sumatran and Indian mammalia, besides butterflies, moths,
beetles, and shells. In another room are sabres, daggers, hunting- knives, pipes,
bowls, models of musical instruments, serving to illustrate some of the usages of
the inhabitants of Java and Sumatra. The Library, in another part of the
building, is also partly appropriated as a Museum. The Oriental curiosities in this
department comprise, among other things, specimens of painted tiles, such as are
used in the East for walls, floors, ceilings, &c., Bhuddist idols, some of Avhite
marble, others of dark stones, and some of wood. There are many other objects
connected with the religion of Bhudda, as parts of shrines and thrones, on v/hich
processions and inscriptions are sculptured, and a large dark-coloured idol repre-
sents one of the Bhuddic divinities. In the centre of this room are three cases
containing very elaborate models of Chinese villas^ made of ivory, mother-of-
pearl, and other costly materials ; and from the ceiling is suspended a large and
highly -decorated Chinese lantern, made of thin sheets of horn.
There are a few glass cases, which contain various objects worthy of notice.
There is an abacus, or Chinese counting-machine, Chinese implements and ma-
64 LONDON.
terials for writing, for drawing, for engraving on wood, and for printing ; also
Chinese weighing and measuring machines, a Chinese mariner's compass, Sycee
silver, the shoe of a Chinese lady, and various Chinese trinkets. There are spe-
cimens of tea, in the form in which it is used in various parts of the East — that
is, in compressed cakes. On a stand, on the floor, is placed a childish piece of mu-
sical mechanism, which once belonged to Tippoo Sultan : it consists of a tiger
trampling on a prostrate man, and about to seize him with his teeth. The inte-
rior contains pipes and other mechanism, which, when wound up by a key, cause
the fio'ure of the man to utter sounds of distress, and the tiffer to imitate the
roar of the living beast.* In passing to another apartment, which forms also a
part of the Library, we enter a small ante-room, which is occupied by a splendid
howdah, or throne, part of it of solid silver, adapted for the back of an ele-
phant, in which Oriental j)rinces travel : it was taken by Lord Combermere at
Bhurtporc. The walls of this room are covered with weapons and arms used by
different Oriental nations. The next room, filled chiefly with books, contains,
however, several curious objects : here are Tippoo Sultan's ' Register of Dreams,*
with the interpretation of them in his own hand ; and the Koran which he was in
the habit of using. A visit to this Museum is certainly calculated to render im-
pressions concerning the East more vivid and striking.
* See the cut in preceding page. — The construction of the whole machine is very rude, and it is probably much
older than the age of Tippoo. The machinery, though not of neat workmanship, is simple and ingenious in con-
trivance. There is a handle on the animal's shoulder which turns a spindle and crank within the body, and is
made to appear as one of the black stripes of the skin. To this crank is fastened a wire, which rises and falls by
turning the crank : the wire passes down from the tiger between his fore-paws into the man s chest, where it works
a pair of bellows, Avhich forces the air through a pipe with a sort of whistle, terminating in the man's mouth. The
pipe is covered by the man's hand ; but at the moment when, by the action of the crank, the air is forced through
the pipe, a string leading from the bellows pulls a small lever connected with the arm, which works on a hinge at
the elbow ; the arm rises in a manner which the artist intended to show supplication ; the hand is lifted fi'om the
mouth, and a cry is heard : the cry is repeated as often as the handle is turned; and while this process is going
on, an endless screw on the shaft turns a worm-wheel slowly round, which is furnished with four levers or wipers ;
each of these levers alternately lifts up another and larger pair of bellows in the head of the tiger. When by the
action of one of these four levers the bellows are lifted up to their full height, the lever, in continuing to turn,
passes by the bellows, and the upper board being loaded witli a large piece of lead, falls down on a sudden and
forces the air violently through two loud-toned pipes terminating in the animal's mouth, and difliering by the
interval of .a fifth. This produces a harsh growl. The man in the meantime continues his screaming or v/histling ;
and, after a dozen cries, the growl is repeated.
[Guildhall, about 1750.]
CV.— HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS OF GUILDHALL.
It may appear at first glance a curious circumstance tliat the greatest events of
which the edifice above-named has been the scene should be those which have
had the least direct connection with its general objects or character. Instead of
the election and banqueting of a Mayor^ the repression of some new system
of swindling ; or — what to some would seem to be almost synonymous — of some
new proposition of municipal reform, each alike, figuratively speaking, stirring
the very hair of civic heads with horror; or, lastly, instead of an inquiry into
some delectable police case, the principal matters that now agitate Guildhall, or
draw public attention towards it, — we find here, in former times, sceptres changing
hands, new religions proscribed, and their disciples sent to martyrdom, trials of
men who would have revolutionised the state, and who might, by the least turn
of Fortune's wheel in adiff'erent direction, have changed places in the court with
those who sat there to decide upon their lives, or rather to destroy them in
accordance with a previous decision — the more common state of things in our old
crown prosecutions. But the connection of such events with Guildhall was not
so remote, still less so accidental, as it seems. Without trenching upon the proper
history of the latter, which belongs to another paper, we may here observe that
when Guildhall w^as the concentrating point towards which, in all matters affect-
ing the independence, prosperity, and government of London, the intellect, wealth,
VOL. y. F
66 LONDON.
and numerical strength of London generally systematically tended, it is evident
that no place throughout England was so favourable for those royal and political
manoeuvres of which the historical recollections of Guildhall furnish such me-
morable examples. If Gloster wishes to be king, it is to Guildhall that he
first sends the wily Buckingham to expressly ask the suffrages of the people : if
the bigoted council of the savage Henry determine to express in some exceed-
ingly decisive manner their abhorrence of the spreading doctrines of the Refor-
mation, and of the error of supposing that because Henry favoured them when
he wanted a new wife, that he still did so when unable to think of anything but
his own painful and disgusting sores, it is at Guildhall that the chosen victim —
a lady, young, beautiful, and learned — receives her doom: if Mary would damage
the Protestant cause whilst trying Protestant traitors, or James, the Catholic, at
a similar opportunity, Guildhall is still the favourite spot. Whatever the effect
sought to be produced, it was well known that success in London was the grand
preliminary to success elsewhere.
It was on Tuesday, the 24th of June, 1483, that the citizens were seen flocking
from all parts towards the Guildhall, on some business of more than ordinary
import. Edward IV. had died a few weeks before, and his son and successor was
in the Tower, under the care of his uncle, the Protector, waiting the period of
his coronation. Doubt and anxiety were in every face. The suspicious eagerness
shown to get the youthful Duke of York from the hands of his mother in the
Sanctuary at Westminster, the almost inexplicable death of Hastings in the
Tower, the severe penance inflicted on Jane Shore, the late King's favourite
mistress, and the sermon which followed that exhibition on the same day, the
preceding Sunday, at Paul's Cross, where the popular preacher. Dr. Shaw, spoke
in direct terms of the illegitimacy of the young Princes, and of the right noble-
ness of their uncle, all produced a growing sense of alarm as to the future inten-
tions of the principal actor, Gloster. As they now entered the hall, and
pressed closer and closer to the hustings, to hear the Duke of Buckingham, who
stepped forth to address them, surrounded by many lords, knights, and citizens,
it was not long before those intentions, startling as they were, became sufficiently
manifest. " The deep revolving, witty Buckingham'' seems to have surpassed
himself that day, in the exhibition of his characteristic subtlety and address.
Commencing with a theme which found a deep response in the indignant bosoms
of his listeners, the tyrannies and extortions of the late King (which the Londoners
had especial reason to remember), he gradually led them to the consideration of
another feature of Edward's character, his amours, which had, no doubt, caused
many a heart-burning in the City domestic circles, and thence by an easy transi-
tion to his illegitimacy ; Buckingham alleging that the late King was not the
son of the Duke of York, and that Richard was. To give confidence to the
citizens, he added that the Lords and Commons had sworn never to submit to a
bastard, and called upon them accordingly to acknowledge the Protector as King.
The answer was — dead silence. The confident orator and bold politician was
for a moment '' marvellously abashed," and calling the Mayor aside, with others ^
who were aware of his objects, and had endeavoured to prepare the way for them,
inquired '' What meaneth this that the people be so still?" '' Sir," replied the
Mayor, '' perchance they perceive [understand] you not well." " That we shall
HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS OF GUILDHALL. 67
amend,'* said Buckingham ; and '' therewith, somewhat louder, rehearsed the same
matter again, in other order and other words^ so well and ornately, and never-
theless so evidently and plain, with voice, gesture, and countenance so comely
and so convenient, that every man much marvelled that heard him ; and thought
that they never heard in their lives so evil a tale so well told. But were it for
wonder or fear, or that each looked that other should speak first, not one word
was there answered of all the people that stood before ; but all were as still as
the midnight, not so much rouning [speaking privately] among them, by which
they might seem once to commune what was best to do. When the Mayor saw
this, he, with other partners of the council, drew about the Duke, and said that
the people had not been accustomed there to be spoken to but by the Recorder,
which is the mouth of the City, and haply to him they will answer. With that
the Recorder, called Thomas Fitzwilliam, a sad man and an honest, which was
but newly come to the office, and never had spoken to the people before, and
loth was with that matter to begin, notwithstanding thereunto commanded by
the Mayor, made rehearsal to the commons of that which the Duke had twice
purposed himself; but the Recorder so tempered his tale that he showed every-
thing as the Duke's words were, and no part of his own ; but all this no change
made in the people, which alway after one stood as they had been amazed."
Such a reception at the outset might have turned some men from their purpose
altogether — not so Buckingham, who now, after another brief converse with the
Mayor, assumed a different tone and bearing. " Dear friends," said he to the
citizens, " we come to move you to that thing which, peradventure, we so greatly
needed not, but that the lords of this realm and commons of other parts might
have sufficed, saying, such love we bear you, and so much set by you, that we
would not gladly do without you that thing in which to be partners is your weal
and honour, which, as to us seemeth, you see not or weigh not ; wherefore we
require you to give us an answer, one or other, whether ye be minded, as all the
nobles of the realm be, to have this noble Prince, now Protector, to be your
King?'* It was scarcely possible to resist this appeal by absolute silence. So,
'' at these words, the people began to whisper among themselves secretly, that
the voice was neither loud nor base, but like a swarm of bees, till at the last, at
the nether end of the hall, a bushment of the Duke's servants, and one Nashfield,
and others belonging to the Protector, with some prentices and lads that thrusted
into the hall amongst the press, began suddenly, at men's backs, to cry out as loud
as they could, ' King Richard ! King Richard !' and then threw up their caps in
token of joy, and they that stood before cast back their heads marvelling thereat,
but nothing they said. And when the Duke and the Mayor saw this manner,
they wisely turned it to their purpose, and said it was a goodly cry and a
joyful to hear every man with one voice, and no man saying nay." This scene, so
graphically described by Hall (from Sir T. More), would form one of the richest
bits of comedy, were it not for the tragic associations which surround the whole.
As it is, one can scarcely avoid enjoying the perplexity of Buckingham and the
Mayor at the unaccountable and most vexatious silence, or the backward look of
the people at the lads and others, who at last did shout, or without admiring the
tact and impudence of Buckingham in acknowledging with a grave face, and •
in grateful words, the cry that was at once so goodly, joyful, and so very unani-
f2
68 LONDON.
mous It will be perceived how closely Shakspere has followed the account here
transcribed, in the third act of his Richard III. ; and as is usual with him, by so
doing-, made the passage scarcely less interesting, as illustrating him, than for its
own historical value.
Passing from the craft and violence which formed the two steps to power
during so many ao-es, and of which the incident narrated, with its well-known
concomitants, furnishes a striking example, we find, but little more than half a
century later, new trains of thought and action at work among men, high passions
developed, struggles taking place for objects which by comparison make all the
intriffues and feuds of rival and aspiring nobles appear contemptible, and main-
tained with a courao-e unknown to the days of chivalry. The Reformation came ;
and sufficiently terrible were its first effects. Division and strife extended
throughout the land. By a kind of poetical justice, Henry himself, who drew
the gospel light from BuUen's eyes, was fated in later years to see an emanation
from that light come in a much less pleasing shape, namely, in the disputatious
glances of his wife Catherine Parr, who, as he grew more helpless and impatient,
ventured to engage in controversy with him, and had well nigh gone to the scaf-
fold for so doing. And though she escaped, a victim was found sufficiently dis-
tinguished to gratify the inhuman and self-willed tyrant, who burned people not
so much on account of their having any particular religion, as the daring to reject
the one he proposed, or to keep it when accepted, if he altered his mind. This
was Anne Askew, a young lady who had been seen very busy about court distri-
buting tracts among the attendants of the Queen, and heard to speak vehemently
against the Popish doctrine of transubstantiation. She was the daughter of Sir
William Askew, of Kelsey, in Lincolnshire, and the wife of a neighbouring gen-
tleman named Kyme, a violent Papist, who turned her out of doors when, after
long study of the Bible, she became a Protestant. She then came to London to
sue for a separation, and was favourably noticed, it is supposed, by the Queen,
and certainly by the ladies of the court. But neither Henry nor his council,
including such men as Bishop Bonner and the Chancellor Wriothesley, were to
be quietly bearded thus. Anne Askew, as she called herself, was arrested, and
carried before Bonner and others. Among the questions put to her was one by
the Lord Mayor, inquiring whether the priest cannot make the body of Christ ?
Her reply was very striking : ** I have read that God made man ; but that man
can make God I never yet read." However, some sort of recantation was ob-
tained from her, probably through the natural and graceful timidity of her youth
and sex overpowering for the moment, in the presence of so many learned and
eminent men, the inherent strength of her convictions. Such triumphs, however,
are of brief duration. Anne Askew was discharged, but quickly apprehended
again, and, after examination by the Privy Council, committed to Newgate. Her
next public appearance was at Guildhall, where she was condemned, with some
more unfortunates, to death for heresy. And now this poor, solitary, but brave
and self-possessed woman was subjected to treatment that makes one blush for
human nature. The grand object of the Council was, it appears, to find what
ladies of the court they could get into their toils, since the Queen herself had
escaped them. So after a vain attempt made by Nicholas Shaxton, the former
Bishop of Salisbury, to induce her to imitate his example, and save her life by
HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS OF GUILDHALL.
69
apostacy, for which attempt he got in answer the solemn assurance that it had
been better for him if he had never been born, she was carried to the Tower, and
examined as to her connexions at court. She denied that she had had any, but
was told the King knew better ; and then followed a question that shows the pri-
vations she had already been intentionally exposed to : How had she contrived to
get food and comfort in prison if she had no powerful friends? " My maid,"
said Anne, " bemoaned my wretched condition to the apprentices in the street,
and some of them sent me money, but I never knew their names." It was pro-
bably at this period of the examination that she was laid on the rack, and that
Wriothesley and Rich, having both applied their own hands to the instrument,
obtained an admission from her that a man in a blue coat had given her maid ten
shillings, saying they came from Lady Hertford, and another time a man in a violet
coat eight shillings from Lady Denny ; but as to the truth of the statements she
could say nothing, and constantly persevered in her assertion that she had not been
supported by these or any of the Council. To the eternal honour of her sex, it
is understood that no amount of anguish could wring anything more from her,
and in consequence Henry and the Council were compelled to be content with
the victim they had. So, whilst still unrecovered from the effects of the rack,
she was hurried off to Smithfield on the 16th of July, 1546, and chained with
three others to stakes. Near them was a pulpit, from which poor Shaxton, as if
not already sufficiently humiliated, was chosen to preach. At the conclusion
of his discourse, a pardon was exhibited for the whole if they would recant ; but
there was no such stuff in their thoughts : Anne Askew and her companions died
as heroically as their own hearts could have ever desired they should die.
[Martyrdom of Aime Askew and others.]
After all, martyrdom, it must be acknowledged, is not a pleasant thing; and
we need not wonder that, through the period extending from the reign of
70 LONDON.
Henry VIII. to that of James I., so many indications present themselves of Pro-
testants and Catholics alike changing passive endurance for active warfare, and
determining that it was as easy to run the risk of conviction for treason as for
heresy, with a much greater probability of improving their position by success.
As to each party, whether in power or not, applying its own dislike of the flames,
its own sense of the monstrous injustice of such influences, its own knowledge of
their inefficacy, to the case of the other, no such supposition seems to have been
conceivable in the philosophy of the sixteenth century. So, burnings, plots, and
insurrections follow each other in rapid succession through this terrible period,
disturbing even the comparative repose of Elizabeth's brilliant reign. Two of
the most striking of these events belong to the history of Guildhall — the one
arising out of Sir Thomas Wyatt's attempt against the Catholic Mary, and the
other from the Gunpowder Plot, destined to overthrow the Protestant James :
each, we may add, forming one of the most interesting features of the altogether
interesting history to which it belongs. Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, himself a
Protestant, was the son of a zealous Papist, Sir George Throckmorton, who
had refused to take the Oath of Supremacy, and been imprisoned in the Tower
many years by Henry. On his release in 1543, Nicholas, his son, received the
appointment of Sewer to the King, and, having accompanied the latter in the
French expedition, was rewarded by a pension for his services. During the reign
of Edward VI. he still further distinguished himself by his conduct at the battle
of Pinkie (or Musselburgh), and rose still higher in kingly favour. Edward
knighted him, received him into close personal intimacy, and, besides making
him under-treasurer of the Mint, gave him some valuable manors. Everything,
therefore, concurred to deepen the impression in favour of Protestantism made
first on his mind, no doubt, by study and conviction. How little inclined Throck-
morton was to interfere with the ordinary laws of legitimacy and succession to the
crown under ordinary circumstances, may be inferred from his conduct at the
commencement of Mary's reign. He was present at Greenwich when Edward
died ; and, although aware of the designs of the friends of Lady Jane Grey,
towards whom, as a Protestant, his sympathies must have tended, yet he did not
hesitate to depart immediately for London, and dispatch Mary's goldsmith to
her with the intelligence of her accession. It is evident, therefore, that when,
only a few months later, we find him on his trial for treason, he must, supposing
the charge to have any truth in it, have experienced some great disappointment
as to the policy he had hoped to have seen pursued, or some new event must
have occurred utterly unlooked for, and most threatening to the Protestant
interests. Such, no doubt, seemed, to a large portion of the nation, the marriage
of Mary with Philip of Spain, one of the most inexorable bigots in religious
matters that ever existed, and whose power seemed to be almost as ample to ac-
complish as his temper and fanaticism were prompt to instigate the destruction of
the new faith wherever his influence might extend, and who did destroy it in the
Spanish peninsula, however signal his failures elsewhere. One little incident
tells volumes as to Philip's character. Whilst present at an auto-da-fe, when
forty persons were marching in the horrible procession towards the stake, to
which they had been sentenced by the Inquisition, one of the poor creatures
called out as he passed the King for Mercy 1 mercy ! " Perish thou, and all like
HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS OF GUILDHALL. 71
thee/' was the reply : "if my own son were a heretic, I would deliver him to the
flames." Such was the man whom the Protestants of England heard, with
natural terror, was about to be connected by the closest ties to the country, and
enabled to exercise the most direct influence on its government : for no man in
his senses could place any reliance upon the promises of non-interference, non-
innovation, &c., which were to be exacted as guarantees for the national freedom.
If we add that the Catholics themselves, rising above the narrow views so com-
mon at the period, and looking at the alliance as Englishmen rather than as
Catholics, disliked it, what must have been the feelings of their religious oppo-
nents ? The answer is to be found in the insurrection which broke out within a
few days after the intelligence of the conclusion of the treaty of marriage be-
came generally known. Sir Thomas Carew took arms in Devonshire, and
obtained possession of the castle and city of Exeter, whilst Sir Thomas Wyatt
threatened from a still nearer locality, Kent. Their objects appear to have been
very uncertain, even among themselves. There can be little doubt, however,
that if they had succeeded, Mary would have been dethroned ; for how else could
they be sure they would not lose all they had gained, and probably their lives
into the bargain ? Equally doubtful does it seem as to the party who would
have taken the vacant seat. If Elizabeth was concerned in the scheme, as it still
seems very probable she was, there can be no doubt as to her views on the ques-
tion : but, on the other hand, the movement seems rather to have inclined in
favour of Lady Jane Grey ; for, not only does the early attack on the Tower,
where she had been confined from the time of her relatives' attempt to make her
queen on the death of Edward, seem to intimate as much, but it is hardly to be
conceived that, for any less personal advantage, the selfish and unprincipled
Duke of Suffolk, Lady Jane Grey's father, just released from an apparently
inevitable death on account of the said attempt, would have joined in a new
one. Modern political tactics no doubt explain the whole. The parties acted
together to meet the one evil which threatened all, leaving the after measures to
be determined by chance, or by the intrigues, skill, and power of the individuals
who might rise most prominently out of the combination, and turn the whole to
their or their party's benefit. And if the most consummate tact and unfailing
courage, joined to entire devotedness, could at such a crisis have secured the crown
to Elizabeth, Sir Nicholas Throckmorton would have been the man to have
accomplished that task. Attachment to her was, indeed, most probably the cause
of the great prominence given to the trial of a man who had taken no public
part whatever in the insurrection, and of the exceeding bitterness and zeal with
which such charges as could be brought together against him were pressed. In
the whole range of criminal proceedings, it would be difficult to find a more
exciting trial than the one we are now about to describe, which commenced on
the 17th of April, 1554, only six days after his friend Wyatt's execution. Our
readers, in order to do justice to Throckmorton's wonderful eloquence, adroitness,
and self-possession, must remember that a state trial had long been little else
than a legal stepping-stone to the scaffold, and that now the appetite for blood
was unusually sharpened by the imminent danger from which Mary had escaped.
We must premise that it is to the dramatic character of the proceedings, as
reported by Holinshed at great length, that the trial owes its chief attractions
72 LONDON.
for a reader, and therefore to abridge the more important passages would be to
destroy their vital spirit. We must, then, transcribe such of these as our
space will admit in their integrity, with the addition merely of a few brief con-
necting remarks. The roll of the judges on the bench shows the importance
attached to the trial by the government, and, for any man but Throckmorton, the
overwhelming amount of learning and intellect coming ready prepared to con-
vict, not to try him. It comprised, besides Sipt Thomas White (the lord mayor),
the Earls of Shrewsbury and Derby, the Recorder and others, — the Lord Chief
Justice Bromley; the Master of the EoUs, Sir N. Hare; a Judge of the Queen's
Bench, Sir W. Portman ; and a Judge of the Common Pleas, Sir E. Saunders;
together with the two Serjeants, Stamford and Dyer; and the Attorney- General
Griffin. At the very commencement of the trial, before pleading. Sir Nicholas
endeavoured to make some observations, which were stopped as informal, but
which led to a spirited discussion, that thus early showed the spirit of the prisoner,
and gave promise of the unprecedented struggle that was about to take place.
This stopped, a weightier matter was handled. After some little private whisper-
ings between the Attorney-General and the Recorder as to the jurymen, who, it
was feared, apparently, might not be packed with an eye to entire harmony of
views, and a further whispering between the Attorney-General and Serjeant
Dyer, the latter challenged two of their number, and when the prisoner asked
the reason of the challenge, replied he did not need to show cause. '* I
trust," was the impetuous outburst of Sir Nicholas, '^ ye have not provided for
me this day as formerly I knew a gentleman used, who stood in the same place
and circumstances as I do. It chanced that one of the Judges being suspicious
that the prisoner, by reason of the justice of his cause, was like to be acquitted,
said to one of his brethren, when the jury appeared, ' I do not like this jury — they
are not fit for our purpose — they seem to have too much compassion and charity
to condemn the prisoner.' ' No, no,' said the other Judge, Cholmley by name
[the Recorder, then sitting on the bench], ' I' 11 warrant you they are fellows
picked on purpose, and he shall drink of the same cup his fellows have done.'
I was then a spectator of the pageant, as others are now of me'; but now, woe is
me ! I am an actor in that woeful tragedy. Well, as for those and such others
like them, the black ox hath lately trodden on some of their feet :* but my trust
is, I shall not be so used." The very man, however, so appositely referred to —
Cholmley — continuing to confer with the Attorney- General as to the jury. Sir
Nicholas called out, '' Ah, ah ! Master Cholmley, will this foul packing never
be left?"
" Why, what do I, I pray you. Master Throckmorton? I did nothing, I am
sure. You do pick quarrels with me."
" Well, Master Cholmley, if you do well, it is better for you, God help you."
The jury were now sworn, and Sergeant Stamford stepped forward to state the
case for the prosecution, when Sir Nicholas again interposed with a most im-
pressive adjuration to the Sergeant not to exceed his office, and then the trial
commenced. The charges in effect were that Throckmorton was a principal de-
viser, procurer, and contriver of the late rebellion, which was sought to be proved
"In this expression Throckmorton probably refers to Cholmley, who had been imprisoned for some time on
uspicion of favouring the Lady Jane Grey."— Note by the Editor of the ' Criminal Trials,' vol. i. p. 69.
HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS OF GUILDHALL. 73
by the written depositions and examinations of parties, mostly lying at the time
under a danger similar to that of the prisoner, and some of whom, as Wyatt, had
been executed ; for such was the wretched state of the criminal law at the time.
The chief allegations brought before the court in this way were, that Throck-
morton had corresponded with Wyatt just before the insurrection ; that he had
enfi^aged to accompany Courteney, Earl of Devonshire, into the west of England ;
that he had invited Carew and Wyatt to advance when they were in arms ; and,
above all, that he had conspired to kill the Queen with William Thomas, Sir
Nicholas Arnold, and others. Passing over the long but every where interesting
portion of the trial in which the first three points formed the subject of inquiry,
and through which Sir Nicholas fought his way step by step, allowing no fact to
be taken for more than its worth (we might almost say lessening its actual value),
exposing every attempt to twist the law unduly against him, showing the value-
less character of the evidence obtained from men who might think their own lives
depended upon the success of their evidence against his ; we pause awhile at the
fourth, as the part best calculated to display the spirit of the two parties, and the
general conduct of the trial. The examination of Sir Nicholas Arnold being read,
which stated that Throckmorton told him that John Fitzwilliams was very much
displeased with William Thomas, the Attorney -General remarked, alluding, we
presume, to the general facts detailed in the examination, which Holinshed
does not give, *' Thus it appears that William Thomas devised that John Fitz-
williams should kill the Queen, and Throckmorton knew of it."
" I deny that I said any such thing to Sir Nicholas Arnold," replied the
prisoner ; '' and though he is an honest man, he may either forget himself, or
devise means how to rid himself of so weighty a burden as this is, for he is
charged as principal : this I perceived when he charged me with his tale ; and
therefore I blame him the less for it, that he endeavours to clear himself, using
me as witness, to lay the contrivance at the door of William Thomas. But truly
I never said any such words to him ; and the more fully to clear the matter,
I saw John Fitzwilliams here just now, who can bear witness he never told me
of any misunderstanding between them ; and as I knew nothing at all of any
misunderstanding, so I knew nothing of the cause. I desire, my lords, he may
be called to swear what he can as to this affair." Then John Fitzwilliams drew
to the bar, and offered to depose his knowledge of the matter in open court.
Attorney- General. " I pray you, my lords, suffer him not to be, sworn, nor to
speak ; we have nothing to do with him."
Sir Nicholas Throckmorton. " Why should not he be suffered to tell the truth ?
and why are you not so willing to hear truth for me, as falsehood against me ?"
Sir N. Hare. ** Who called you hither, Fitzwilliams, or bid you speak ? You
are a very busy fellow."
Sir Nicholas Throckmorton. " I called him, and humbly desire he may speak
and be heard as well as Vaughan [a witness, and the only one, who had been
called personally against him], or else I am not indifferently used, especially as
Mr. Attorney doth so press this matter against me."
Sir R. Southwell. " Go your way, Fitzwilliams, the court has nothing to do
with you ; peradventure you would not be so ready in a good cause."
And so John Fitzwilliams went out of the court, and was not suffered to speak.
74 LONDON.
It is probable, however, that this rejection of evidence affected the prisoner's in-
terests with the jury at least as favourably as the evidence itself could have done
if heard. And Throckmorton took care to press the consideration directly home
to them. " Since," said he, '' this gentleman's declaration may not be admitted,
I hope you of the jury will take notice, that this was not for any thing he had to
say against me, but, on the contrary, for fear he should speak for me. Now as to
Master Arnold's deposition against me, I say, I did not tell him any such words ;
so that, if they were material, there is but his Yea and my Nay for them. But
that the words may not be so much strained against me, I pray you, Mr. Attorney,
why might I not have told Arnold that John Fitzwilliams was angry with William
Thomas, and yet not know the cause of the anger ? Who proves that I knew
any thing of the design of William Thomas to kill the Queen ? No man ; for
Arnold says not one word of it, but only that there was a difference between
them ; and to say that implies neither treason, nor any knowledge of treason.
Is this all the evidence you have against me, in order to bring me within the
compass of the indictment ?"
Serg. Stamford, " Methinks those things which others have confessed, together
with your own confession, will weigh shrewdly. But what have you to say as to
the rising in Kent, and Wyatt's attempt against the Queen's royal person in her
palace ?"
Chief Justice Bromley. '' Why do you not read to him Wyatt's accusation, which
makes him a sharer in his treasons ?"
Sir R. Southwell. '' Wyatt has grievously accused you, and in many things which
have been confirmed by others."
Sir N. Throckmorton. " Whatever Wyatt said of me in hopes to save his life,
he unsaid it at his death ; for, since I came into the hall, I heard one say, whom
I do not know; that Wyatt on the scaffold cleared not only the Lady Elizabeth
and the Earl of Devonshire, but also all the gentlemen in the Tower, saying none
of them knew any thing of his commotion ; of which number I take myself to be
one."
Sir N, Hare. " Nevertheless, he said that all he had written and confessed
before the Council was true."
Sir N. Throckmorton. " Nay, sir, by your patience, Wyatt did not say so : that
was Master Doctor's addition."
Sir R. Southwell. " It seems you have good intelligence."
Sir N. Throckmorton. " Almighty God provided this revelation for me this very
day, since I came hither; for I have been in close prison for eight- and-fifty days,
where I could hear nothing but what the birds told me, who flew over my head."
The law of the lawyers fared no better in Throckmorton's grasp than their facts.
After a rapid and masterly review of, and answer to, all that had been alleged
against him, he took up new ground, namely, that according to the only two
statutes in force against treasons, he could not, even if guilty, be attainted within
the indictment. These statutes he now desired to be read.
Chief Justice Bromley. " No, there shall be no books brought at your desire :
we know the law sufficiently without book."
Sir N. Throckmorton. " Do you bring me hither to try me by the law, and will
not show me the law? What is your knowledge of the law to the satisfaction of
HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS OF GUILDHALL. 75
these men, who have my trial in hand. Pray, my lord, and my lords all, let the
statutes be read, as well for the Queen as for me."
Serg. Stamford. " My Lord Chief Justice can tell what the law is, and will do
it, if the jury are doubtful in any particular."
Sir N. Throckmorton. " You know it is but reasonable that I should know and
hear the law by which I am to be judged ; and forasmuch as the statute is in
English, people of less learning than the judges can understand it, or how else
should we know when we offend ?"
Sir N. Hare. " You know not what is proper for your case, and therefore we
must inform you. It is not our business to provide books for you ; neither do
we sit here to be taught by you : you should have been better informed of the
law before you came hither." [Our readers will do well to keep this remark in
view, in order properly to enjoy what follows.]
Sir N. Throckmorton. " Because I am ignorant I would learn, and therefore I
have the more occasion to see the law, partly for the instruction of the jury, and
partly for my own satisfaction ; which methinks would be for the honour of the
court. And now, if it please you, my Lord Chief Justice, I do principally direct
my words to you. When the Queen was pleased to call you to that honourable
office, I did learn of a great man, and one of her Majesty's Privy Council, that
her Majesty, among other good instructions, charged and enjoined you to ' admi-
nister the law and justice impartially, and without respect of persons. And not-
withstanding the old error among you, which did not admit any witness to speak,
or any thing else to be heard, in favour of the adversary, where her Majesty was
a party, it was her Highness's pleasure that whatever could be produced in favour
: of the subject should be admitted to be heard ; and further, that you in a parti-
cular manner, and likewise all other judges, were not to consider that you sat in
judgment otherwise for her Majesty than for her subjects.' Therefore this method
of impartiality in your proceedings being principally enjoined by God's command^,
as I designed to have reminded you at first, if I could have had leave to do it,
and the same being also given in command to you from the Queen's own mouth,
I think you ought in justice to allow me to have the statutes openly read, and to
reject nothing that could be spoken in my defence : in so doing, you shall approve
yourselves worthy ministers of justice, and fit for so worthy a mistress."
Chief Justice Bromley. '' You mistake the thing; the Queen said those words
to Morgan, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas : but you have no reason to com-
plain, for you have been suffered to speak as much as you pleased."
Sir N. Hare. *' What would you do with the statute-book ? The jury do not
require it ; they have heard the evidence, and they must upon their consciences try
whether you are guilty or not ; so that there is no need of the book ; if they will
not believe such clear evidence, then they know what they have to do."
Sir R. Cholmley. " You ought not to have any books read here at your ap-
pointment; for if any question arises in point of law, the judges are here to inform
the court ; and now you do but spend time."
Attorney -General. '' My Lord Chief Justice, I pray you to sum up the evidence
for the Queen; and give the charge to the jury ; for the prisoner will keep you
Ihere all day."
I Chief Justice Bromley. " How say you, have you any more to say for yourself?"
76 LONDON.
Sir N. Throckmorton. '' You seem to give and offer me the law, but in very
deed 1 have only the form and image of the law: nevertheless, since I cannot have
the statutes read openly in the book, / uill, with your leave, guess at them as well
as I can ; and I pray you to help me if I mistake, for it is long since I have seen
them." He then went on to point out, reciting the passage in question verbatim,
that the Statute of Repeal, made in the last Parliament, had referred all treason-
able oifences to the statute 25th Edw. III., the essential part of which he also cor-
rectly repeated, and that that requh-ed a man to be "attainted by open deed, by
people of his condition;" he then, turning to the jury, continued: *^Now, 1 pray
you of the jury, who have my life in trial, mark well what things at this day are
treasons ; and how these treasons must be tried and detected ; that is, by * open
deed,' which the law doth sometime call an overt act. And now 1 ask, beside my
indictment, which is but matter alleged, where does the *open deed' of my com-
passing and imagining the Queen's death appear ? or where does any 'open deed'
appear of my adhering to the Queen's enemies, giving them aid and comfort ? or
where does any ' open deed ' appear of taking the Tower of London ?"
Chief Justice Bromley. *' Why do not you, who are the Queen's learned counsel,
answer him ? I think, Throckmorton, you need not to see the statutes, for you
have them pretty perfectly." After this appeal, which one could almost fancy
exhibited a latent sense of enjoyment on the part of the Chief Justice of the
dilemma which seemed opening upon the lawyers, there ensued a long and
spirited discussion on the meaning of the words of the statute, in which, to the
evident mortification of the lawyers, the man who should have been " better in-
formed " before he came there, disputed every point of law with such depth of
legal learning as well as intellectual subtlety, that they were fain to bring the
whole strength of the bench against him, with what success we must give
one further illustration. As a closing proof that the law admitted of the
conviction of traitors apart from the statute of Edward,' and in answer to
some case brought forward by the prisoner, which very strongly demanded an
answer, the Lord Chief Justice stated that a man, in the time of Henry IV., was (
adjudged a traitor, and yet the fact did not come within the express words of the
said statute. *' I pray you, my Lord Chief Justice," was the instantaneous and
crushing answer, '' call to your good remembrance, that in the selfsame case of
the Seal, Judge Spelman, a grave and well-learned man, since that time, would
not condemn the offender, but censured the former judgment by your Lordship
last cited, as erroneous.'^ The Chief Justice was silenced, whilst Sergeant Stam-
ford could not help remarking, in the bitterness of his spirit, '- If I had thought
you were so well furnished with book cases, I would have come better pre-
pared for you." One other extract, a passage of the truest and perfectly un-
studied eloquence, and we have done. Being about to offer another argument
to answer the assumption, which the lawyers now returned to, as safer ground,
that Wyatt's actions, taken in connexion with Throckmorton's presumed cog-
nizance, proved the latter to be an adviser and procurer. Sergeant Stamford told
him the Judges did not sit there to make disputations, but to declare the law; and
one of those Judges (Hare) having confirmed the observation, by telling Throck-
morton he had heard both the law and the reason, if he could but understand it,
he cried out passionately, '' Oh, merciful God ! Oh, eternal Father! who seest all
HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS OF GUILDHALL. 17
things, what manner of proceedings are these? To what purpose was the statute
of repeal made in the last Parliament, where I heard some of you here present,
and several others of the Queen's learned counsel, grievously inveigh against the
cruel and bloody laws of Henry VI II., and some laws made in the late King's
time ? Some termed them Draco's laws, which were written in blood ; others
said they were more intolerable than any laws made by Dionysius or any other
tyrant. In a word, as many men, so many bitter names and terms those laws.
Let us now but look with impartial eyes, and consider thoroughly
with ourselves, whether, as you, the Judges, handle the statute of Edward III.,
with your equity and constructions, we are not now in a much worse condition than
when we were yoked with those cruel laws. Those laws, grievous and captious
as they were, yet had the very property of laws, according to St. Paul's descrip-
tion, for they admonished us, and discovered our sins plainly to us, and when a
man is warned he is half armed ; but these laws, as they are handled, are very
baits to catch us, and only prepared for that purpose ; they are no laws at all :
for at first sight they assure us that we are delivered from our old bondage, and
live in more security ; but when it pleases the higher powers to call any man's
life and sayings in question, then there are such constructions, interpretations,
and extensions reserved to the Judges and their equity, that the party tried, as I
now am, will find himself in a much worse case than when those cruel laws were
in force. But I require you, honest men, who are to try my life, to consider
these things : it is clear these Judges are inclined rather to the times than to the
truth ; for their judgments are repugnant to the law, repugnant to their own
principles, and repugnant to the opinions of their godly and learned pre-
decessors."
After a summing up by the Judge, in which Sir Nicholas had to help his
*' bad memory " as to the answers given to the charges, and after a most solemn
address to the jury by the latter, the case was left to them — the final
judges, fortunately, of the matter, as they were the only ones in whom the pri-
soner could have had any hope from the commencement of the trial. As they
were dismissed, Throckmorton, whom nothing escaped, who was as shrewd and
sagacious one moment as impressive and irresistible the next, through the whole
proceedings, took care to demand that no one should have access to the jury.
What terrible hours must those have been that now elapsed before the return of
the jury into the court ! — but at last they came. After the usual preliminary
form, followed the momentous question, " How say you ? is Sir Nicholas Throck-
morton, knight, the prisoner at the bar, guilty of the treason for which he has
been indicted and arraigned ? Yea or no ? ''
Foreman. '* No."
The Lord Chief Justice would fain have frightened the jury into another
verdict ; and when that did not succeed, began to consult with the Commissioners,
but Sir Nicholas gave them not a moment, steadily but respectfully reiterating his
demand for his discharge; and at last it was given. Thus ended the most
interesting trial perhaps on record, for the exhibition of intellectual power. The
jury were not allowed to escape unpunished ; imprisonment and fines fell heavily
upon them, for daring to do what they had the absurdity to believe they were
placed there to do — decide according to their conscience, even though it were in
a State prosecution.
78
LONDON.
The trial of Garnet, before alluded to, though deeply interesting in itself, and
still more important in a political sense than Throckmorton's, would read but
flatly after the latter ; the Jesuit, with all his double-dealing and wily caution,
fell into a trap at which Throckmorton would have laughed. A brief record of
the case therefore, as a whole, will be at once more attractive and suitable to
our remaining space. When the Gunpowder Plot first frightened the isle from
its propriety, and alarmed James to that degree that the veritable explosion,
had he escaped, could hardly have increased the consciousness of the wrongs
he had done to the Catholics, and which they sought to avenge by so monstrous
and wholesale an act of slaughter, coupled with the instincts of cruelty and
destruction, which the weak so often exhibit after danger, seem to have
wrought greatly upon his mind, and to have induced him not to remain content
with the lives of the conspirators, and their aiders and abettors, taken though
they were in a mode, and to an extent, that reduces the Government of the day
to a level with the men it punished for barbarous inhumanity, but to strive
also to fix upon the entire Catholic people the guilt of sharing in the conspi-
racy. Again and again, therefore, did the Commission examine Fawkes and his
companions, with the usual accompaniment of examinations in those days —
torture, aided by the searching minds of Popham, Coke, and Bacon ; and
at last sufficient matter was extorted, chiefly from Bates, Catesby's servant, to
warrant the issue of a proclamation for the apprehension of three priests —
Gerard, Greenway, and the Superior of the Jesuits in England, Garnet. The
two former escaped to the Continent, whilst the latter, having sent a letter to the
Lords of the Council, strongly asserting his innocence, disappeared, and for a
long time baffled all attempts at discovery. At last, Humphrey Littleton, con-
demned to death at Worcester for harbouring two of the conspirators, in order to
save his own life, told the sheriff that some Jesuits named in the proclamation
were at Hendlip, a spacious mansion, about four miles from Worcester, which
was only pulled down in the present century. It is to be regretted it is lost, not on
[Hendlip House, 1800.]
HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS OF GUILDHALL. 79
account of the interest attached to it by the romantic adventure we are about to
mention, but as a specimen of the buildings of the age when concealment was too
frequently necessary in order to escape from religious and political persecutions.
'' There is scarcely an apartment/' says the author of the account of Worcester-
shire (* Beauties of England and Wales '), who describes it as he himself saw it,
*' that has not secret ways of going in or going out ; some have back staircases
concealed in the walls ; others have places of retreat in their chimneys ; some
have trap-doors ; and all present a picture of gloom, insecurity, and suspicion."
Thither, on receiving Littleton's information, went Sir Henry Bromley of Holt
Castle, with elaborate instructions from Lord Salisbury as to the modes of
search he was to adopt. For some time Sir Henry was perfectly unsuccessful,
and, as he says, " out of all hope of finding any man or any thing," until he
discovered " a number of Popish trash" hid under boards in three or four several
places, which stimulated him to continue a watch, and, at last, two unhappy men
came forth '' from hunger and cold,'' one of whom it was thought was Green-
way. With fresh vigour was the search now prosecuted, and one of the men,
on the eighth day, discovering an opening into a cell not previously known,
there came forth two more persons, both Jesuits, and one of them the anxiously
sought-for Garnet. He was immediately conveyed to the Tower, where he was
examined almost daily for ten days, but without any conclusive proof being fur-
nished of his own guilt, or the guilt of the others named in the proclamation.
Especial reasons of state seem to have saved Garnet from the torture, but his
servant Owen and the other two Jesuits, Oldcorne and Chambers (who with
Garnet made the four found at Hendlip), were not only tortured, but one of
them (Owen) with such infamous severity, that the unhappy man ripped up his
own body with a table-knife to escape any further infliction. A new scheme was
now tried, worthy of the institution from which it had probably been derived — the
Spanish Inquisition — and Garnet was at once caught. He and Oldcorne were
placed in adjoining cells, and informed by the keeper, under strong injunctions of
secrecy, that, by opening a concealed door, they might confer together. And
here every day or two they met, their whole conversation at the mercy of two
listeners, who made regular written memorandums of it for the Council. And
thus was laid the groundwork of the great body of criminatory evidence subse-
quently established against Garnet at Guildhall, where, in order, as both Lord
Salisbury and Sir Edward Coke stated on the trial, to compliment the loyalty of
the citizens by so exemplary a display of Popish treason, the trial took place, on
the 28th of March, 1606 ; and ended in his conviction and execution, amidst a
general feeling among the Catholics that he was a mart3^r. This feeling was
still more strongly called forth by the strange imposture known as Garnet's
Straw. The history given by the presumed author of the imposture, Wilkinson,
states that a considerable quantity of dry straw having been cast into the basket
with Garnet's head and quarters, at the execution, he standing near, found tfite
straw in question thrown towards him — how, he knew not. " The straw," he con-
tinues, '' I afterwards delivered to Mrs. N., a matron of singular Catholic piety,
who enclosed it in a bottle, which being rather shorter than the straw, it became
slightly bent. A few days afterwards, Mrs. N. showed the straw in the bottle to
a certain noble person, her intimate acquaintance, who, looking at it attentively.
80
LONDON.
at lenffth said, ' I can see nothing in it hut a man's face.' Mrs. N. and myself
beino- astonished at this unexpected declaration, again and again examined the
ear of the straw, and distinctly perceived in it a human countenance," &c. The
prodigy excited universal attention, and led at last to a very prevalent belief
among the Catholics at home and abroad that a miracle had been vouchsafed to
prove the Jesuit's innocence. At first the appearance of the face was very simple,
but ijradually, to accommodate the increasing demands of wonder and superstitious
belief, the whole expanded into an imposing-looking head, crowned and encircled
bv rays, with a cross on the forehead, and an anchor coming out of the ear at the
sides. At last it engaged the attention of the Privy Council, who exposed the
fraud and then very wisely left the matter to drop gradually into oblivion.
Of the other events in what we may call this episodical history of Guildhall, there
are but two possessing any high claims to recollection — the trial of the poet
Waller, in the period of the Commonwealth, which we can only thus briefly refer
to, and that of the poet Surrey, in the reign of Henry VIII., which will be noticed
elsewhere. The building itself belongs to the municipal government of London,
which will form the subject of our next paper.
[Council Chamber, Guildhall.]
CVL— CIVIC GOVERNMENT.
Antiquaries tell us that there was an ancient Saxon law — imposed probably by
the rulers of that people after the conquest of this country, the better to keep its
wild and conflicting elements in order— which ordained that every freeman of
fourteen years old should find sureties to keep the peace ; and that, in conse-
quence, '' certain neighbours, consisting of ten families, entered into an asso-
ciation, and became bound to each other to produce him who committed an
offence, or to make satisfaction to the injured party. That they might the better
do this, they raised a sum of money amongst themselves, which they put into a
common stock, and when one of the pledges had committed an offence, and was
fled, then the other nine made satisfaction out of this stock, by payment of
money according to the offence. In the mean time, that they might the better
identify each other, as well as ascertain whether any man was absent on unlawful
business, they assembled at stated periods at a common table, where they ate
and drank together."* This primitive custom, so simple and confined in its ope-
rations, was to beget mighty consequences in the hands of the amalgamated
Anglo-Saxon people. We find its associating principle following them into the
fortified places or burghs where they first assembled for the purposes of trade
* Johnson's Canons, Laws of Ina, transcribed from Herbert's * Livery Companies,' vol. i. p. 3.
VOL. v. G
82 LONDON.
and commerce (tlie nuclei of our towns), and affording to them an infinitely safer
defence a«-ainst at^-gression than any fortifications could give, in the Trade Guilds.
If therefore, there be one of the great and still existing institutions of anti-
quity, possessing in its history matters of deeper interest and instruction than
any other, it is that of our municipal government, whose very meeting-places
constantly remind us by their designation what they were — the guild-halls, and
what we owe to the system, which has, unfortunately, through causes into which
it is not our province to enter, enjoyed of late years more of the popular con-
tempt than of popular gratitude: a feeling which, if it promised to be perma-
nent, mi(>-ht well excite the apprehension of the political philosopher as to the
ultimate well-being of the country. All considerations, then, tend to invest the
very word guildhall with a more than ordinary sense of the value of the associa-
tions that may belong to a name, and which is of course enhanced when it refers,
not merely to a hall of a guild, but to the hall of the guilds generally of the
metropolis, as in that we are about to notice in connection with Civic Government.
The building itself, as we now approach it from Cheapside, through King
Street, appears no unapt type of the discordant associations that have grown up
around the institution : the old hall, in the main, is there still, but with a new
face, which shows how ludicrously inadequate were its builders to accomplish their
apparent desire of restoring it in harmony with, but improving upon, the gene-
ral structure ; and they seem to have had some misgivings of the kind them-
selves ; for they have so stopped short in the elevation, as to leave the dingy
and supremely ugly brick walls, with their round-headed windows, added by
their predecessors to the upper portion of the hall after the fire of London, ob-
trusively visible. It is possible that the " little college " which stood here prior
to the year 1411, had been either in itself or in its predecessors founded by the
Confessor, whose arms are yet visible in the porch ; at the timiC mentioned, the
present hall was begun by the corporation, Thom.as Knowles being then Mayor.
Among the modes adopted of obtaining the requisite monies, are some which,
though common enough in connection v/ith ecclesiastical structures, are remark-
able as applied to a guildhall : Stow, whose authority is Fabyan, having remarked
that the companies gave large benevolences towards the charges thereof, adds,
*' Also offences of men were pardoned for sums of money towards this work, ex-
traordinary fees were raised, fines, amercements, and other things employed during
seven years, with a [partial, probably is meant] continuation thereof three years
more."* Even then the whole was not completed; a variety of miscellaneous
items of a later date occur in connection with the edifice, such as that in
1422-3 the executors of Whittington gave 35/. towards the paving of the hall
with Purbcck marble ; about the same time was also erected the Mayor's Court,
the Council Chamber, and the porch; in 1481, Sir William Harryot, Mayor,
defrayed the expense of making and glazing two louvres in the roof of the hall;
the kitchen was built by the " procurement '' of Sir John Shaw, goldsmith and
Mayor, about 1501 ; finally, tapestry, to hang in the Kail on principal days,
was provided about the same time by Sir Nicholas Aldwyn, another Mayor. If
we add to this, that a new council chamber was erected in 1614, that after the
Great Fire the walls remained so comparatively uninjured, that only roofs and
out-ofl[ices had to be rebuilt, and that it was towards the close of the last century
* ' Survev/ ed. 1^33, p. 2S3.
CIVIC GOVERNMENT, 83
that the " truly Gotliic facade," as Brayley satirically calls it, using the word in
its less usual but sufficiently evident acceptation, was built, we shall not need to
dwell any longer on the general history of the erection. Before we enter the
porch, we may cast a brief glance at the surrounding buildings. The one on the
left is the Justice Room of Guildhall, where the ordinary magisterial business of
that part of the City which lies west of King Street is conducted, under the super-
intendence of an Alderman ; the other, or eastern portion, forming the business of
the Justice Room at the Mansion House, where the Mayor presides. The building
opposite, on the right, contains the Courts of Queen's Bench and Common Pleas,
held, with the Court of Exchequer, at Guildhall three several days during each
term, and on the next day but one after each term, from time immemorial. The City
receives 3^. 60?. for each verdict given in these Courts, in payment for the use of
the buildings provided ; and there the connection ends at present, whatever may
have been the case in former times, when the custom originated. In both courts
the excessively naked and chilly aspect of the walls is somewhat relieved by the
portraits of the judges, who, after the fire of London, sat at Clifford's Inn, to
arrange all differences between landlord and tenant during the great business of
rebuilding ; and who thus, as Pennant observes, prevented the endless train of
vexatious lawsuits which might have ensued, and been little less chargeable than
the fire itself. We wonder whether the judges or the legislature Avill ever take
it into their heads to give us the blessing of such courts of reconciliation and
summary determination of differences without a preliminary fire ! Sir Matthew
Hale was the chief manager of the good work in question, which so won upon
the Cit}^ that, after the affair was concluded, they determined to have the por-
traits of the whole of the judges painted and hung in their hall, as a permanent
memorial of their gratitude. Lely was to have been the artist, but, being too
great a man to wait upon the judges at their respective chambers, Michael
Wright, a Scotchman, obtained the commission. He is the painter of a highly -
esteemed portrait of Lacy, the actor, in three characters, preserved in the
collection at Windsor. Sixty pounds each was his remuneration for the portraits
at Guildhall, and it certainly seems as much as they were worth. On the site
of these Law Courts, there was standing, till the year 1822, the chapel or college,
shown in our engraving of the exterior of Guildhall, in the preceding number,
which was built so early as 1299, and had, in its palmiest days, an establishment
of a custos or warden, seven priests, three clerks, and four choristers. '' Here
used to be service once a week, and also at the election of the Mayor, and before
the Mayor's feast, to deprecate indigestion and all plethoric evils"* — the chapel
having been given by Edward VI. to the City at the dissolution of the college.
Adjoining the chapel there had been, before Stow's time, " a fair and large
library," belonging to the Guildhall and College, which that wholesale pillager,
the Protector Somerset, laid his hands upon during the reign of the young Ed-
ward, on the plea of merely borrowing the books for a time. In consequence,
till the present century, the citizens of London, in their corporate capacity, had
scarcely a book in their possession; but in 1824, an annual grant of 200/., and
a preliminary one of 500/., for the formation of a new library, was made; and
* Pennant, 'London/ ed. 1791, p. 415.
G 2
84
LONDON.
the collection, already rich in publications in civic topography and history, pro-
mises to become, in course of time, not unworthy of the body to Avhich it belongs.
As we enter the porch the genuine architecture of the original structure strikes
upon the eye with a sense of pleasurable surprise. Its arch within arch, its
beautifully panelled walls, looking not unlike a range of closed-up Gothic
windows, the pillars on the stone seat, and the numerous groins that spring from
them intersecting the vaulted ceiling ; and, lastly, the gilt bosses, so profusely
scattered about, all seem to have remained untouched — certainly uninjured —
from the days of their erection, during the reign of Bolingbroke. They are,
however, the only things here unchanged. A citizen of that period would be a
little puzzled, we suspect, to understand, for instance, the long bills which hang
on each side of the doors leading from the porch into the hall, containing a list
of the brokers authorised by the Mayor and Aldermen to exercise their vocation
in the City : the funded system would certainly be too much for him. We enter
the hall, and it does not need many glances to tell us that it has been a truly
magnificent place, worthy of the extraordinary exertions made for its erection,
and of the City — we might almost say, considering its national importance, of
the empire, to which it belonged. Nay, it is magnificent still, in spite of the
liberties that have been taken with it, such as closing up some of its windows
with enormous piles of sculpture ; and above all, in spite of the miserable modern
upper story, with its vile windows, and of the flat roof, which has taken the
place of the oaken and arched one, with its carved pendants, its picturesque
combinations, and its rich masses of shade, such as we may be certain once rose
from the tops of those clustered columns. But the vast dimensions (152 feet in
length, 50 in breadth, and about 55 in height), the noble proportions, and the
exquisite architecture are still there, and may possibly at no distant period lead
to the restoration of the whole in a different spirit from that which at once
mangled and burlesqued it, under the pretence of admiration, in the last century:
already the restoring of the roof is talked of. The crypt below the Hall has
been but little interfered with, and still shows the original design of the architect.
[The Cryph.j
CIVIC GOVERNMENT. Ho
The contents of the Hall are too well known to render any lengthened description
necessary; we may therefore briefly observe, that they comprise in one depart-
ment of art the monuments of the great men whom the City has delighted to
honour, and in another the renowned giants Gog and Magog. Among the
former is that of William Beckford, Esq., who so astonished George III. by
addressing him against all courtly precedent, on receiving the unfavourable
answer vouchsafed by the monarch to the Remonstrance of the City on the
subject of Wilkes's election ; and so delighted the citizens, that they caused this
memorial to be erected after his death, which is said to have been accelerated by
the excitement of the times acting upon ill health. The others are Lord Nelson's,
the Right Hon. William Pitt's, and his father's, the Earl of Chatham ; the last
by Bacon, the only one that seems to us deserving even of criticism. Allan
Cunningham says, an eminent artist remarked to him one day, " See, all is
reeling — Chatham, the two ladies [Commerce and Manufacture], the lion, the
boys, the cornucopia, and all the rest, have been tumbled out of a waggon from
the top of the pyramid." There certainly never was, in the history of art, men
capable of such great things making such melancholy mistakes as our modern
sculptors in a large proportion of their more ambitious productions. The
author of the strange jumble here so justly satirized is also the same man of
whom Cowper no less justly says —
" Bacon there
Gives more than female beauty to a stone,
And Chatham's eloquence to marble lips :"
referring, in the last line, either to the chief figure on this very monument, or to
that on Bacon's other Pitt memorial in Westminster Abbey. The inscriptions on
the monuments of Nelson and the two Pitts seem to have called forth the literary
powers of our statesmen in a kind of rivalry : Burke wrote the Earl of
Chatham's, Canning William Pitt's, and Sheridan Nelson's. The fine old crypt
beneath the Hall, extending through its entire length, is in such excellent pre-
servation that we cannot but regret some endeavour is not made to restore it to
the light of day. As it is, what with the rise of the soil on the exterior, and the
blocking up of windows, we can only dimly perceive through the gloaming the
pillars and arches which divide it lengthwise into three aisles. Some of the uses
of the great civic hall are well known. On the dais at the cast end are erected
the hustings for the parliamentary elections of the City of London. The Cor-
poration banquets are also given here ; and their history from the time Sir John
Shaw — excellent man! — built the kitchen, in 1501, down to the visit of her
present Majesty, would furnish rich materials for an essay on the art and science
of good living, for that the latter is both, cooks and aldermen unanimously agree.
The most magnificent of these feasts seems to have been that of 1814, after the
overthrow of Napoleon, when the chief guests were the Prince Regent, the Em-
peror of Russia, and the King of Prussia, when the dinner was served entirely on
plate, valued at above 200,000/., when all the other arrangements were conducted
on a correspondingly sumptuous scale, and when, in a word, the expenditure was
estimated at 25,000/. On some occasions the Guildhall banquets have had an
historical interest attached to them. A good dinner, it is well known, is often
the readiest and most effectual way of opening an Englishman's heart. Charles I.,
LONDON
[The Haii J
acting upon this maxim, dined with the citizens just at that critical period of
his history when a recourse to arms must have appeared to all thoughtful minds
the only ultimate solution of the contest between him and the people. The long
Parliament had met ; Strafford had been arrested, tried, and executed : the city
exhibiting its sentiments with regard to that nobleman, while his fate was yet un-
decided^ by presenting a petition for justice against him, signed by 20,000 citizens.
To arrest these and other similarly dangerous symptoms was, therefore, an object
of the highest importance. The banquet took place on the very day of the king's
return from Scotland, the 25th of November, 1641, the corporation having come
out to meet him on the road. Its conduct was, of course, marked by cA^ery pos-
sible indication of external respect, and Charles took care to return their compli-
ments in a truly royal manner. When the Lord Mayor, Recorder, and others met
him, in the Kingsland road, with an address, he made a very gracious reply, in
which he told them, that he had thought of one thing as a particular affection to
them, which was the giving back unto the city that part of Londonderry (Ireland),
which had been formerly evicted from them ; and, in conclusion, he knighted both
the Lord Mayor — iVcton, and the Recorder. Then they all went on together in
stately procession to Guildhall, where the dinner gave such high satisfaction to
their Majesties (the Queen being also present) that, after it was over, Charles
sent for Mr. John Pettus, a gentleman, says Maitland, of an ancient family in the
CIVIC GOVERNMENT. 87
county of Suffolk, who had married the Lord Mayor's daughter, and knighted
him too. The royal visitors were then conducted to Whitehall, where his Majesty
could not part with the Lord Mayor till he had most graciously embraced and
thanked him, and charged him to thank the whole city in his name. Whether
.enough had not been done yet to soften the harshness of the city politics, and in
despair further efforts were made, or whether the first move was so successful
that everything might be hoped for from a second of a like kind, we know not ;
but whatever the cause, not many days elapsed before the Mayor received a
patent of baronetcy instead of the knighthood so recently conferred (he was a
7if.w Mayor, be it remembered, the 9th of November having only just passed) ;
and when a deputation of the citizens, consisting of the Mayor and certain Alder-
men, with the Sheriffs and the Recorder, went to Hampton Court to thank their
Majesties for all favours, and to ask them to winter at Whitehall, &c., Charles
agreed to their request, and " after his Majesty had ended his answer, and that
Mr. Recorder and Sir George Whitmore had kissed his royal hand, the next
alderman in seniority kneeled down to receive the like princely favour, when
suddenly and unexpectedly his Majesty drew a sword, and instead of giving him
his hand to kiss he laid his sword upon his shoulder and knighted him ; the like
he did to all the other aldermen and the two sheriffs, being in number seven;'*
whilst as an appropriate conclusion, we presume, to so much princely favour,
" his Majesty commanded that they should dine before they left the court.*"
The annual feast in Guildhall, on Lord Mayor's Day, is but the suitable close
to the general business of the installation of the new chief magistrate, which
takes place the day before, and to the somewhat tedious honours involved in the
pageantry of the procession. The twenty-six Aldermen, and two hundred and
forty common-councilmen of the City, have seen with their own eyes that the
existence of the Corporation has not been endangered by the bare presumption of
any momentary lapse as to its possession of a head ; in other words, they have
seen the Lord Mayor elect and the Lord Mayor in possession sitting side by side,
and then changing chairs; and the public have had their share of the enjoyment
attached to the event, namely, the gilded coach and the men in armour ; and now
all parties, except the public, sit down comfortably to enjoy themselves after their
toils, still further solaced by the fair faces and radiant eyes which glow and
sparkle in every direction : the concentrated loveliness of the civic domestic world,
which these occasions, with a few others of a more accidental character, as a fancy
ball for the benefit of the Poles, alone adequately reveal to us. The election of
the Mayor takes place on the preceding '29th of September, and the electors are
the liverymen of the several companies met in Common Hall, as it is called.
To these the crier reads a list of Aldermen, in the order of seniority, who have
served as sheriff (who alone are eligible), and who have not already passed the
chair of mayoralty. In ordinary cases the first two persons named are accepted,
but the Livery, if it pleases, may depart from that order, or even select those in
preference who have already been elected and served. If the decision of a show
of hands be not accepted, a poll is taken, which lasts seven days. The two
names finally determined upon are announced to the Mayor and Aldermen by the
Common Sergeant; these also generally select the senior Alderman, but may
''' Maillaiid, vul. i. p. 3i3-3iG.
88 LONDON.
reject him, as in a recent instance, for the other. The person elected then de-
clares his acceptance of the office (rejection subjects him to a fine of 1000/.),
and the Lord Mayor, Recorder, Sheriffs, and Common Sergeant, returning to
the Hall, declare the result, and proclamation accordingly is made. There re-
mains but to present him to the Lord Chancellor, in order to receive his assent
on the part of the Crown to the election ; to administer the usual oaths before
the Mayor and Aldermen on the morning of the 8th, after which the proceedings
before alluded to take place ; and lastly, the presentation to the Barons of the
Exchequer, when he is again sworn, a custom that is an interesting memento of
the state of things after the Conquest, when the chief municipal officers were
the parties appointed by the king as the instruments of his pecuniary exactions,
and who, when, in lapse of time, again elected by their respective municipalities,
were sworn to pay duly into the Exchequer the crown rent then accepted in lieu
of the former uncertain and arbitrary imposts : London had two of these officers,
called bailiffs, and paid 300/. yearly.
The mummeries and sensual enjoyments which seem to round in and to form
so large a portion of London municipal life has had one bad effect, which is as
much to be regretted for the sake of its chief officers themselves, as for the insti-
tution : they have turned aside the public attention, not merely from the capa-
cities of the one, but have made it estimate very inaccurately the real nature
and amount of the services performed by the other. Looking at it as a whole,
it would be difficult to find a more arduous and responsible position than that of
the mayoralty of London. Consider for a moment the Mayor's duties. He pre-
sides at the sittings of the Court of Aldermen, both in their own and in what is
called the Lord Mayor's Court, at the Court of Common Council, and at the
Common Hall. He is Judge of the Court of Hustings, which, however, does
not make any extensive demands upon his time ; a Judge of the Central Criminal
Court, and the same of the London Sessions held at Guildhall. He is a justice
of the peace for Southwark, where he usually opens the Sessions, and continues
subsequently to preside. He is escheator in London and Southwark, when
there is anything escheatable, not a matter now of very frequent occurrence.
He is conservator of the Thames, an office that involves, among other duties, the
holding eight courts within the year, and occasionally a ninth. He has to sign
affidavits to notarial documents required for transmission to the colonies, to
attend, when necessary, committees of the municipal body, and the meetings of
the Sewage Commissioners, of which he is a member. Then, in matters of
a more general nature, in which the City is concerned, or in which it feels in-
terested, he is expected to take the lead, and in consequence is in continual com-
munication with the Government ; he presides at public meetings ; distinguished
foreigners have a kind of prescriptive claim on his attention and hospitality.
He attends the Privy Council on the accession of a new sovereign ; at corona-
tions he is chief butler, and receives a golden cup as his fee. And as if his time
were still insufficiently occupied with his own corporate business, and the
things naturally growing out of it, other institutions look to him for assistance :
he is a governor of Greenwich Hospital, governor of King's College, a trustee of
St. Paul's, and connected with we know not how many other schools, hospitals,
and public foundations. Lastly, not that the list is exhausted, but that our
CIVIC GOVERNMENT. 89
space is^ he sits daily in his own justice-room at the Mansion House, for scarcely
less than four hours a day on the average. We are not aware how the mere
enumeration of such an overwhelming amount of business as this may affect the
fancy of the sportive wits who amuse themselves at the expense of the office and
the officer, but we do know that the latter need desire no better revenge than to
be allowed to catch one of these said gentlemen, and place him in the civic chair
for a single week.
Yet it must be owned that some of the interest formerly attached to the
Mayoralty, and most of the romance, have been lost. There are no opportunities
now for the incipient Walworths to show their prowess ; no government, be it
Whig or Tory, thinks now of making the Lord Mayor an occasional inmate of
the Tower, as a mode of drawing his attention, as a wealthy and benevolent citizen,
to its financial necessities. The history of the Lord Mayors of London in the
nineteenth century certainly looks rather insignificant beside the history of their
predecessors some four or five centuries back. Take up any tolerably full index
to a history of the metropolis, and mark the expressive items enumerated under
the word Mayor. Here is Maitland's, which, beginning with the first chief magis-
trate (after the bailiffs), Henry Fitz-Alwin, 1189, and proceeding chronologically
downwards, tells us that at one time the Mayor — submits to the king's mercy,
at another — is arrested, and purchases his liberty at a dear rate — is committed
to prison — is, with four of the aldermen, delivered up to the prince to be fleeced —
is degraded — presented to the Constable of the Tower — again committed to
prison — reprimanded by the privy council — flies with the other citizens^assaulted
— fined; ''warm work, my masters !" and this all in the first century and a half
The cause was, no doubt, to be found very much in the feelings and conduct of
the Mayor and his brethren in those days ; they were neither content, on the
one hand, to help the monarch to fleece their fellow-citizens, nor would be fleeced
themselves, without being delivered up, on the other. And, after all, one wonders
why the monarch took so much trouble with men who were indignant at what he
did rather than grateful for what he did not, but might have done ; and seeing
how much more easy it was to seize and take care of a charter than a mayor,
how much more profitable its gracious restoration. Possibly the fact that the
citizens of London could, if need were, use the arms with which they were then
generally provided, may have had something to do with the matter, and rendered
subtlety as necessary as force in dealing with them. Hence the interference of
royalty in the earlier elections, and the variety of interesting events that sprang
from this interference, among which is one that it is strange has not been more
dwelt upon, from the high interest attached to an actor therein. It may surprise
many to hear that one of the greatest of English poets, Chaucer, ought also to be
looked upon as one of the most eminent on the roll of the civic illustrious : no
portrait, no memorial of any kind, reminds you in Guildhall of his name, yet
was he an exile in the cause of corporate freedom. Born in London, as he him-
self tells us, and feeling more kindly love " to that place than to any other in
earth," he was not one to remain in inaction when its liberties were threatened
with utter destruction by Richard II. Fortunately, we possess his own state-
ment of what his views on this subject had been from an early period of his life.
" In my youth," says the poet, ''I was drawn to be assentant — and in my might
90
LONDON.
j^^lping to certain conjuracions [confederacies], and other great matters of ruling
of citizens ,• and thylke things being my drawers-in and exciters to these matters,
^vere so painted and coloured, which at the prime face meseemed them noble
and o-lorious to all the people. I then weening mickle merit [to] have deserved
in furthering and maintenance of those things, busied and laboured with all my
dilitcence, in working of thilke matters to the end. And truly to tell you the
sooth merouo-ht little of any hate of the mighty Senators* in thilke city, nor of
commons' malice, for two skilles [reasons] : one was, I had comfort to be in such
pli<rht, that both profit were to me and to my friends ; another was, for common
profit in communalty is not, but [unless] peace and tranquillity with just govern-
ance proceedeth from thilke profit :" observations worthy of the author of the
'Canterbury Tales;' and presenting an interesting glimpse of the principles
that ffuided the poet in action. Prior to the event we are about to notice/
Kichard had shown an almost open hostility towards the citizens, partly, it is
said, on account of their manly remonstrances against the proceedings of his
ministers, and partly from envy of their wealth. Accordingly, it appears, *' he
was accustomed," says Godwin, ''when they had fallen under his displeasure, to
oblige them to purchase his forgiveness with large contributions in money ;" and
he had also repeatedly imposed his own creature. Sir Nicholas Brember, as
Mayor, upon them, in defiance of their wishes and rights. It may be here no
ticed that the City records show that, in former times, the election of the Mayor
was claimed by some popular and large constituency, which, no doubt, was the
entire body of citizens ; we shall perceive, in Chaucer's own account of t\\i
matter, that this was an element of the struggle between Richard and the Lon-
doners. Describing (in his appeal to the government from the Tower, from whicli^
the foregoing passage is taken) the arguments used by his associates to induce
him to adopt the line of conduct which had brought him into so much misery
he says, " The things which, quod they, be for common advantage, may no';
stand, but [unless] we be executors of these matters, and authority of executioi
by commcn election, to us be delivered ; and that must enter by strength of 3^ou)
maintenance." Again, " The government,*' quod they, '* of your city, left in th( i
hands of tornencious [usurious or extortionate] citizens shall bring in pestilenc(
and destruction to you, good m.en ; and therefore let us have the common admi
nislration to abate such evils.'' We have here still more clearly pointed out thi
motives that actuated Chaucer in engaging in the struggle between the King an(
the popular party in the City, and which rose to its climax in 1392; when th^
latter selected John of Northampton to be the candidate for the Mayoralty ii
opposition to Brember, and a most exciting contest ensued. Chaucer is supposet
by Godwin to have had another motive besides his regard for the liberties of th
City, namely, zeal for his patron, John of Gaunt, towards whose ruin, it seems
the proceedings of the Court were looked upon as the first step. Of the detail,
of the struggle we know very little. Chaucer says of it, "And so, Avhen it felj
ihnt/ree election hij great clamour of much peoj)le [who], for great disease of gc
vernment, so fervently stooden in their election [of their own candidate] tha
* The Aldermen probably of that day ; a body that we find continually leaning towards royalty through i\
early struggles of the citizens against it.
I CIVIC GOVERNMENT. 91
they themselves submitted to every manner face [or^ in other words, every ima-
ginable disadvantage] rather than have suffered the manner and the rule of the
hated governors, (notwithstanding that [they], in the contrar}^ held much com-
mon meiny [followers] that have no consideration but only to voluntary
lusts without reason), then thilke governor [Brember] so forsaken," and
fearing " his undoing for misrule in his time," endeavoured to hinder the
election and procure a new one in favour of himself; and then burst out the
insurrection, or in the poet's words, ''mokyl roar areared." The result shows
how deeply he was himself concerned. After the " roar '* had been quelled
by a large armed body, under Sir Robert Knolles, on the part of the king,
and Sir Nicholas Brember once more unduly installed in the chair, proceed-
ings commenced against the principal leaders of the defeated party. Of
these we find only two names mentioned — John of Northampton's, who was
committed to confinement in Corfe Castle, and thence removed to Carisbrook
Castle whilst preparations for his trial were made, and Chaucer's, against
whom similar process was commenced, but who, knowing the men with whom he
had to deal, fled to Zealand. There he seems to have suffered much distress,
and chiefly through the conduct of some of those with whom he had been con-
nected in the business of the election. In 1386 he ventured to return to London,
where he received a mark of the public approbation of his conduct by his being
elected a member of parliament for Kent. It may have been this very election
which determined the government not to overlook his former conduct, and so to
get rid of a man whose abilities they must have dreaded ; for it appears that he
was arrested in the latter part of the same year, sent to the Tower, and deprived
of the offices he held, namely, the Comptrollership of the Customs in the Port of
London and the comptrollership of the small customs. Touchingly beautiful are
his laments over his sad estate at this time. Having alluded to the delicious
hours he was wont to spend enjoying the blissful seasons, and contrasted them
with his penance in the dark prison, cut off from friendship and acquaintances,
'' forsaken of all that any word dare speak " for him, he continues : *' Although
I had little, in respect [comparison] among others great and worthy, yet had I
a fair parcel, as methought for the time, in furthering of my sustenance ; and
had riches sufficient to waive need ; and had dignity to be reverenced in worship ;
power methought that I had to keep from mine enemies ; and meseemed to
shine in glory of renown. Every one of those joys is turned into his contrary : for
riches, now have I poverty ; for dignit}^ now am I imprisoned : instead of power,
wretchedness I suffer ; and for glory of renown, I am now despised and fully
hated." He was set at liberty in 1389, though not, it is said, until he had pur-
chased freedom by dishonourable disclosures as to his former associates : the
whole subject, however, is too much enveloped in mystery for us to venture on
any unfavourable decision ; we can only be sure of the important fact, that no one
suffered in consequence of Chaucer's liberation.
Ascending the steps opposite the entrance into the Hall, which lead to the
other parts of the building, we find the room known as the court of aldermen,
having a rich and elaborate ceiling in stucco, divided into compartments, the
principal of them containing paintings by Sir James Thornhill. The cornice of
the room consists of a series of carved and painted arms of all the Mayors since
92 LONDON.
1780. The apartment, as its name tells us, is used for the sittings of the Court
of Aldermen, who in judicial matters form the bench of magistrates for the me-
tropolis, and in their more directly corporate capacity try the validity of ward
elections and of claims to freedom, who admit and swear brokers, superintend
prisons, order prosecutions, and perform a variety of other analogous duties : a
descent, certainW, from the high position of the ancient eorculdmen, or superior
Saxon nobility, from whom they derive their name and partly their functions.
They were called '^ barons " down to the time of Henry I., if, as is probable, the
latter term in the charter of that king refers to the Aldermen. A striking proof
of the high rank and importance of the individuals so designated is to be found in
the circumstance that the wards of London of which they were aldermen ^vere, in
some cases, at least, their own heritable property, and as such bought and
sold, or transferred under particular circumstances. Thus the aldermanry of a
ward was purchased, in 1279, by William Faryngdon, who gave it his own name,
and in whose family it remained upwards of 80 years ; and, in another case, the
Knighten Guild having given the lands and soke of what is now called Portsoken
ward to Trinity Priory, the Prior became, in consequence. Alderman, and so the
matter remained in Stow's time, who beheld the Prior of his day riding in pro-
c<?ssion with the Mayor and Aldermen, only distinguished from them by wearing
a purple instead of a scarlet gown. As to the present constitution of the body,
it may be briefly described as follows : each of the twenty-six wards into which
the city is divided elects one alderman, with the exception of Cripplegate- Within
and Cripplegate-Without, which together send but one ; add to these an alder-
man for Southwark, or, as it is sometimes called. Bridge Ward- Without, and we
have the entire number of 26, including the Mayor. They are elected for life
at ward-motes, by such householders as are at the same time freemen, and paying
not less than 305. per annum to the local taxes. The fine for the rejection of the
office is 500/. Generally speaking, the aldermen consist of those persons who, as
common- councilmen, have won the good opinions of their fellows, and who are
presumed to be fitted for the higher offices to which they as aldermen are liable,
the Shrievalty and the Mayoralty. Leaving the Court of Aldermen for the
Council Chamber, towards which we now advance through an elegant corridor,
we find ourselves surrounded by the chief artistical treasures of the Corporation.
Before we notice these we may conclude our sketch of the component parts of the
latter, with a few words on the Common Council and the general body from which
they are chosen. The members of the Council are elected by the same class as
the aldermen, but in very varying — and in comparison with the size and import-
ance of the wards — inconsequential numbers. Bassishaw and Lime Street wards
have the smallest representation, — 4 members, and those of Farringdon-Within
and Without the largest, namely 16 and 17. The entire number of the Council
is 240. Their meetings are held under the presidency of the Lord Mayor ; and
the Aldermen have also the right of being present. The other chief officers of the
municipality, as the Eecorder, Chamberlain, Judges of the Sheriffs Courts, Com-
mon Sergeant, the four City Pleaders, Town Clerk, &c., &c., also attend. Of the
functions of the Council it will be only necessary to observe, that it is the legis-
lative body of the Corporation, and in that capacity enjoys an unusual degree of
power, such as that of making important alterations in the constitution of thq
CIVIC GOVERNMENT. 9^3
latter, that it dispenses the funds, manages the landed property, has the care of
the bridges and of the Thames Navigation, with many other powers and trusts.
" In the earliest times," say the Corporation commissioners, the words Commune
Concilium appear to have been applied sometimes to the whole body of citizens,
sometimes to the Magistracy (that is, the Lord Mayor and Aldermen), or the
Magistracy and Sheriffs. In the reign of Henry III. a Folkmote seems to have
been summoned to meet the Magistracy three or four times in the year, and on
special occasions."* We have already seen that the election of the Mayor was
claimed by the citizens generally ; and altogether it seems evident, that in the
Saxon time the folkmote, as the meeting of the entire body of people in the open
air was called, or the busting or common hall^ when within-doors, exercised the
most important functions of local government. And although these rights were
placed in abeyance during the first shock of the Conquest, they were again
claimed and made the subject of frequent struggles, similar to that in which
Chaucer was engaged, as reviving peace and prosperity afforded opportunities.
From the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council, we descend to the
Livery and the freemen, from which, step by step, the former have risen. Until
of late years, the onl}^ path to freedom was through the halls of the companies
(the ancient guilds), and they, in effect, still form the true base of the civic struc-
ture. As we shall devote an early number to them, we need only here observe
that the Livery, of whom we hear so much, are favoured portions of the general
body of freemen in each company, who possess the right of electing the Mayor,
Sheriffs, Chamberlain, and other municipal officers, who form, in a word, the
Common Hall of the present day. Glancing back over the general features of
the entire corporate body, the analogy frequently pointed out between the na-
tional and the civic parliament appears no idle dream, such as we may fancy to
have visited the slumbers of some ambitious aldermanic brain, but strikingly
true, clear, and interesting. We perceive an elective head, as the sovereign
once was elective, a comparatively irresponsible, and at a certain period — when,
indeed, the very same parties probably sat as barons in both parliaments — ■
hereditary second estate, and a Commons representing, or professing to repre-
sent, the citizens or the people. To carry it still farther, as Mayor, Aldermen,
and Common Council sit in one chamber, so sat the component parts of the na-
tional parliament when it first began to assume its present form ; as the parlia-
mentary constituencies really form but a fraction of the people, so do the Livery
stand towards the general body of the citizens. But the most interesting result
of the comparison is one that, we suspect, does not altogether agree with the
popular view of the subject — that the lesser apes the greater : when municipal
government in England was in its freest, most energetic, and most flourishing
condition, parliaments, in any just sense of the term as applicable to their ex-
isting constitutions and powers, were unknown. In short, of our original local
government, '' enough is discoverable to show most clearly that it had never
been moulded by a central authority, but that, on the contrary, the central
authority had been, as it were, built upon the broad basis of a free municipal
organization." -j-
* Report, p. 35.
f Article, Boroughs of England and Wales, * Penny Cyclopaedia.
94 LONDON.
The scene of these united assemblages owes little of its interest to its beauty
or splendour. One would think, from the dingy appearance of the crimson
linino- of the walls, and the paltry matting of the floor, that the place belonged
to the poorest rather than to the richest of municipalities, did not the numerous,
and in some instances well-known, works of art around the walls, chiefly the pro-
ductions of corporate patronage, show that it possessed no stinted exchequer.
The sculpture consists of a full-length white marble statue of George 1 1 J., by
Chantrey, placed in a niche of a bluish-grey colour at the back of the seat of
mayoralty, and of some busts, one of them Granville Sharpe's, also by Chantrey,
and one of Nelson, by the lady sculptor, the Hon. Mrs. Damcr, who so worshipped
its subject, that after the hero of the Nile had sat to her, she not only "loved to
relate the conversations which she had with her ' Napoleon of the waves,' " but
" it was one of her favourite ideas to form a little book of his sayings and re-
marks, for the use of her young relative, the son of Sir Alexander Johnston." *
Among the pictures are Northcote's 'Death of Wat Tyler,' Copley's * Siege of
Gibraltar,' Opie's ' Murder of David Rizzio,' with some interesting portraits by [
Sir W. Beechey, Sir T. Lawrence, Copley, and Opie ; of which Alderman Boy-
dell's, by Beechey, may be particularised for the sake of the public-spirited man
to whose generous and enlightened zeal art owes so much. One feature of the
collection is curious — the number of representations connected with Gibraltar :
there are no less than three 'Defences,' and all by ''R. Paton, Esq."
The other noticeable portions of Guildhall are the Old Court of King's Bench,
the Chamberlain's Office, and the Waiting or Reading Room. In the first
(where, among other pictures, is a pair of classical subjects — Minerva, by Westall,
and Apollo washing his locks in the Castalian fountains, by Gavin Hamilton),
the greater portion of the judicial business of the Corporation is carried on : that
business, as a whole, comprising in its civil jurisdiction, first, the Court of Hus-
tings, the supreme court of record in London, and which is frequently resorted
to in outlawry and other cases where an expeditious judgment is desired ; secondly,
the Lord Mayor's Court, which has cognizance of all personal and mixed actions
at common law, which is a court of equity, and also a criminal court in matters
pertaining to the Customs of London ; and thirdly, the Sheriff's Court, which
has a common-law jurisdiction only: we may add that the jurisdiction of both
courts is confined to the City and Liberties, or, in other words, to those por-
tions of incorporated London, known respectively in corporate language as
Within the walls, and Without. The criminal jurisdiction includes the London
Sessions, held generally eight times a- year, with the Recorder as the acting
Judge, for the trial of felonies, &c. ; the Southwark Sessions, held in Southwark
four times a-year ; and the eight Courts of Conservancy of the River. Passing
into the Chamberlain's Office, we find a portrait of Mr. Thomas Tomkins, by
Reynolds ; and if it be asked, who is Mr. Thomas Tomkins, we have only to say,
in the words of the inscription on another great man — Look around ! All these
beautifully written and emblazoned duplicates of the honorary Freedoms and
Thanks voted by the City, some sixty or more, we believe, in number, are
the sole production of him, who, we regret to say, is the late Mr. Thomas
Tomkins. The duties of the Chamberlain are numerous : among them, the
* Cunningham's ' Biltisli Sculptors/ p. 263.
CIVIC GOVERNMENT. 95
most worthy of mention, perhaps, are the admission, on oath, of freemen (till of
late years averaging ia number one thousand a-year) ; the determining quarrels
between masters and apprentices (Hogarth's prints of the Idle and Industrious
Apprentices are the first things you sec within the door) ; and lastly, the Trea-
surcrship, in which department enormous sums of money pass through his hands.
In 1832, the latest year for which we have any authenticated statement, the cor-
porate receipts, derived chiefly from rents, dues, and market tolls, amounted to
160,193/. 1 1^. 8c/. ; and the expenditure to somewhat more. The Waiting Room
is a small but comfortable apartment, with the table covered with newspapers,
and the walls with pictures; among which, Opie's Murder of James I. of Scot-
land is most conspicuous. There are here also two Studies of a Tiger and a
Lioness and her Young, by Northcote. Near the door, numerous written papers
attract the eye — the useful daily memoranda of the multifarious business eter-
nally going on, and which, in addition to the matters already incidentally re-
ferred to, point out one of the modes in which that business is accomplished
— the Committees. We read of appointments for the Committee of the Royal
Exchange — of Sewers — of Corn, Coal, and Finance — of Navigation — of Police,
and so on.
The personal state of the head of so important an institution has always been
an object of solicitude with the citizens. In his dignity they beheld the reflec-
tion of theirs. Hence the almost princely list of officers forming his household :
his sword-bearer, his sergeant-at-arms, his sergeant-carver, sergeants of the
chamber, his esquires, his bailiff's, and his young men : hence his heavy annual
expenditure, which is expected to exceed the ordinary sum appropriated for that
purpose, amounting to nearly 8000/., by 3000/. or 4000/. more. Yet, strange
enough, with such a household and such a sum to be expended, they never
thought of giving him a house till the last century ; and the Mayors, therefore, had
to content themselves with their own, or to borrow the halls of their companies.
The present pile, finished in 1753, was erected by Dance. It is of course hand-
somely fitted up, and the plate, used on all important occasions, is valued at
above 20,000/. The Justice Room is immediately on the left of the chief
entrance. A very interesting part of the business here is a remnant of a valuable
old custom, which seems to show that the idea of a court of reconciliation is by no
means a novelty in this country, though never fully developed. In this court
private applications are continually made to the Mayor, for his advice and arbi-
tration, and, we understand, with very beneficial results. The banquets which
are here from time to time given, of a public character, as those to the chief
members of the Government, or of a more private kind, as to the corporation,
take place in the Egyptian Hall, an apartment of great size, with a detached
range of large pillars, with gilded capitals, on each side, an ornamented roof in
panels, and a throne for his lordship — the whole brilliantly illuminated by
chandeliers. A long and very handsome corridor leads to the Hall, from which,
near the centre, branch off" the passages to the private apartments. As to the
pictures, busts, and statues, which should give to all such mansions their prin-
cipal charm, there is here a melancholy blank. What an opportunity for some
new Boydell ; what a rich gallery of civic historical portraiture might not be
summoned at the call of the enchanter to people these now desolate walls. The
96
LONDON.
Mansion House itself, as a building onl}^ a century old, can hardly be expected
to have much historical interest attached to it. The most important event its
annals can yet boast is, perhaps, the Wilkes riots, of which, during the mayor-
alty of Wilkes's friend, Brass Crosby, the neighbourhood — as shown in the prints
of the time, from one of which the following is engraved — was the frequent
scene.
[The Mansion House, 1771.]
[Excise Office, Broad Street.]
CVII.— THE EXCISE OFFICE,
If a stranger from any part of England, Scotland, or Ireland, however remote,
were to pause in the midst of Broad Street, and inquire to what purpose that large
pile of building opposite to him were appropriated, he would, ten to one, on
learning that it was the Excise Office, have a livelier idea of the operations of
the Board of Revenue, which has its seat there, than the inhabitant of London,
provided that neither had been brought into direct contact with its officers by the
nature of his business. In the country the officer of Excise, or the exciseman, as
we may more familiarly call him, is often seen hurrying through the same hamlets
and pleasant lanes, often at untimely hours, on errands which seem half myste-
rious. In London nobody ever sees an exciseman, except those who are in the
habit of receiving him as an official visitor, and to many the only representative
of the existence of such a tax as the Excise is the great building in Broad Street.
The forces by which it levies some millions a-year for the Exchequer are as in-
visible to them as the officers of another department — the Stamps. The Post
Office sends forth its emissaries, every hour, through the streets of the metro-
polis, and there is now scarcely any person who has not the satisfaction of contri-
buting at least a few pence annually to this department of the revenue ; but it is
only a limited number who personally have dealings with the Board of Stamps
and Taxes, or with the Customs and Excise. The latter is by far the most pervad-
ing part of the taxing system, except the Post Office. One-half of the Customs*
VOL, V. H
I
98 LONDON.
duty of the United Kingdom is collected in the port of London, and two-thirds of
it are obtained in the two ports of London and Liverpool. The great mass of
inland dealers in articles of foreign produce, although they well know that by
means of duties the price is enhanced to them by the wholesale merchant, and
ao-ain by them raised to their customers, yet they see nothing of the agency by
■which this process is rendered necessary. In the case of the Excise, however,
every part of the country is parcelled out with as much distinctness as its legal
and ecclesiastical divisions. There is first the " Collection," which corresponds
in importance with the county, and is the primary division ; then the *' Collec-
tion" is divided into " Districts," which may be regarded equivalent to the hun-
dreds and wapentakes; and next come the '' Eides" and '' Divisions,'* which are
the parishes and townships of the Excise territory. Nearly 5000 officers of vari-
ous grades are stationed in these districts, and are busily employed in going over
every part of the one which is assigned to them, for the purpose of charging the
Excise duties on various classes of traders. But before going further into the
nature and operations of the Excise, it may be as well briefly to notice the history
of the system, more especially as this is not easily to be found in any single book ;
and where it is given, the facts are stated with a brevity which is not very in-
structive.
In this present year, 1843^ duties of Excise have been established in England
exactly a couple of centuries. Clarendon states that an attempt was made to in-
troduce these duties in 1626; and Prynne gives the following account of the
matter in a small tract published in 1654, entitled, ''A Declaration and Protesta-
tion against the illegal and detestable, and oft-contemned new Tax and Extortion
of Excise in general, and for Hops, a Native and uncertain commodity in parti-
cular." He states that, *' Our late beheaded King Charles," by the advice of the
Duke of Buckingham and other evil counsellors, granted a Commission under the
Great Seal to thirty-three Lords and others of the Privy Council, to set on foot an
Excise in England. The production of the Commission was moved for in Par-
liament, and on its being brought before the House, a debate took place, which
ended in an unanimous vote as to the scheme being contrary to the Constitution.
A conference with the Lords subsequently took place on the subject, in which Sir.
Edward Coke, on the part of the Commons, took a principal part. He described
it as " Monstrum, horrendum, informe, ingens," descanting upon each of these
strong terms; "Yet, blessed be God," he added, ' cui lumen ademptum,' — "whose
eyes were pulled out by the Commons," which he hoped their Lordships would
second before the monster was fully brought forth to consume and devour the
nation. Eventually the King cancelled the Commission, and for a time the
matter was dropped.
In 1641, when the struggle between the Parliament and the King was be-
coming one of life and death, and each party required all the means it could com-
mand to carry on the contest, the Parliament still set their faces against raising
a revenue from Excise duties; and, in October, 1641, published a contradiction
to the rumour that they intended to levy such duties. The entry on the Journals
of the House, under this date, is as follows : — " The Commons House of Parlia-
ment, receiving information that divers public rumours and aspersions are by
malignant persons cast upon this House, that they intend to assess every man'si
THE EXCISE OFFICE. 99
pewter^ and lay Excises upon that and other commodities, the said House, for their
vindication, do declare that these rumours are false and scandalous ; and forasmuch
as those false rumours and scandals are raised by ill-affected persons, and tend
much to the disservice of the Parliament, it is therefore ordered that the authors of
these false, scandalous rumours shall be searched and enquired after, and appre-
hended and brought to this House to receive condign punishment." As their neces-
sities became greater, however, they were obliged to resort to the much-condemned
impost. On July 22, 1 643, an ordinance of the Lords and Commons was issued for
the speedy raising and levying of monies '^ by way of Excise, or new impost," for
the maintenance of the forces raised by Parliament, '' until it shall please Almighty
God, in his mercy, to move the King's Majesty's heart to confide and concur with
both his Houses of Parliament for the establishing of a blessed and lasting
peace." It was further ordained, *' for the better levying of the monies hereby
to be raised, that an office from henceforth be erected and appointed in the City
of London, to be called or known by the name of the Office of Excise, or new
impost, whereof there shall be eight Commissioners to govern the same, and one
of them to be treasurer, with several registrars, collectors, clerks, and other
subordinate officers," as the Commissioners may determine. ^ Of the eight Com-
missioners appointed, three were Aldermen of the City, and another was one of
the Sheriffs of London. The office which they established was open from eight
in the morning to eleven, and from two till five in the afternoon ; and it was placed
under the cognizance of a Committee of the Lords and Commons, appointed for
advance of money, which sat at Haberdashers' Hall. The Commissioners of
Excise were empowered to call in the aid of the trained bands, volunteers, or
other forces, if necessary. The first articles in the list of duties were ale, beer,
cider, and perry. The brewers were required to enter weekly, in the new office,
the quantity of beer sold, the names of the buyers, and were not to deliver any
beer without first obtaining a ticket from the new Excise Office. The duty on
strong ale or beer, of the value of 8s. the barrel, v/as 2s. if sold to the retailers,
and \s. if for private use. Private families, who brewed, paid a duty also. An Excise
duty was also imposed, at the same time, on wine and certain groceries, on wrought
silks, furs, hats, lace, and one or two other articles. The Royalists at Oxford soon
followed the example of the Parliament, and adopted the new system of taxation,
but they also declared that it should only be continued during the war. Although
the people of London w^ere so favourable to the Parliament, the new Excise Duty
created riots in London, and the populace burnt down the Excise House in
Smithfield ; and Pymm, who is called by Blackstone the father of the Excise,
in a letter to Sir John Hotham, remarks, that it would " be necessary to use the
people to it by little and little." The Parliament, however, went the length of
subjecting meat and salt to the new tax, but they, some time afterwards, abolished
it on these articles. A Declaration of Parliament was made in 1646, "upon
occasion of tumults and great riots, which then, lately before, had happened, and
were privily fomented in several parts of the kingdom against the receipts of
the Excise ;" and it was upon this occasion that they observed that as " this
duty is by experience found to be the most easy and equal way, both in relation to
the people and the public, so the Lords and Commons are resolved, through all
opposition whatsoever, to insist upon the due collection thereof;" but they pro-
h2
100 LONDON.
mise, when the peace of the kingdom is settled, to show " how much more ready
they are to €ase the people of this charge than they ever could be willing to
impose the same." For the present the people were enjoined to pay the duties
to officers appointed to receive the same in each hundred or wapentake ; the civil
force was called upon to assist them ; and " Sir Thomas Fairfax, general of the
whole forces of the kingdom, is hereby desired to order and enjoin all colonels,
captains, officers, and soldiers, under his command, upon application made to
them, speedily to suppress all such tumults, riots, and unlawful assemblies' ' as
those which had called forth the Declaration. The opposition to the Excise does
not appear to have diminished much by the repeal of the duty on salt and meat.
There were still frequent riots, the people being very averse to await with
patience the time for taking off the others, although the Parliament stated
in their Declaration that they could not at present take off further duties, and
that, " in consequence of the Excise being pledged for debts, they must require
its payment." Allusion is then made to "malcontents,*' who gave out that
the charge of collection was so great that " half the receipt and income were
consumed upon officers." This the Lords and Commons deny, and " assure the
kingdom that until the late obstructions and oppositions, the charge in collecting
the Excise hath never amounted, upon the whole receipt, to full two shillings
upon every twenty shillings received." They then point out the various im-
portant public objects to which the Excise revenue (1,334,532/.) had been
applied, and " to no private use whatever;" while on the credit of this revenue
various debts, they said, were pledged, '' which must be discharged before this
receipt can in justice or honour be laid down." In the party pamphlets of this
period neither of the two great parties could fairly attempt to raise a popular
clamour against its opponents on account of the Excise. It is true that, in the
early part of his reign, Charles I. was compelled to abandon his Excise scheme,
and in one of his declarations he charged Parliament with imposing odious excises
upon their fellow-subjects ; yet stern necessity obliged him to resort to them as
well as the Parliament. Nevertheless the Royalist pamphlets endeavoured to
show that the Excise was a scheme of the Republicans, and, like all other ob-
noxious taxes, it brought upon the Government for the time being, for whose use
it was paid, a full share of odium. In 1649 a scurrilous pamphlet appeared,
purporting to be written by ' Mary Stiff, charwoman,' entitled * The Good
Women's Cryes against the Excise on all their Commodities.' It is printed as
prose, but written in doggrel rhyme, and in not very decent language, and suffi-
ciently shows the nature of the popular outcry against the tax.
One of the earliest financial measures of the Government, after the Restora-
tion, was the abolition of the Excise on all articles of consumption, except ale,
beer, cyder, and perry, which produced a clear annual revenue of 666,383/.
These duties were divided into two equal portions, called the Hereditary and the
Temporary Excise. The first was granted to the Crown for ever, as a compensa-
tion for the abolition by act of Parliament of various feudal tenures, — as the
court of wards, and purveyance, and other oppressive parts of the royal heredi-
tary revenue. The other half was only granted for the life of the king. On the
accession of James II., Parliament granted him for life the Temporary Excise,
and increased it by additional duties on wines, vinegar, tobacco, and sugar, which.
THE EXCISE OFFICE. 101
however, were only retained for a short period. The Government of the Revolu-
tion would gladly have made itself popular by abolishing the more obnoxious of
the Excise duties, but its necessities would not allow of such a course. The
duty on glass and on malt was first imposed in William's reign, and the distil-
leries were subjected to Excise duties as well as the brewers. The salt duty was
reimposed, and the duty on ale and beer increased, the latter producing an
addition of 450,000/. a-y ear to the revenue. During the thirteen years of the
reign of William III. the Excise duties averaged nearly a million a-year. The
expensive wars of Anne's reign rendered it necessary still further to increase the
number of articles subject to Excise, and duties were imposed on paper, stained-
paper, and soap. This branch of revenue produced an average of 1,738,000/.
during the twelve years of her reign. The produce of the Excise, during the
peaceable reign of George I., averaged 2,340,000/. per annum, with no addition
to the number of excisable articles, except a small duty on wrought plate.
The Excise still remained the most obnoxious branch of the public revenue.
The laws for its protection were very severe, and no other tax so constantly and
inconveniently interfered with the trading classes, or excited so wide-spread a
prejudice ; for the unpopularity of the duties on importation was chiefly confined
to the towns on the coast, but the Excise laws were felt by persons in every
corner of the country. It was a current opinion of the political writers of the day,
in which Locke and Davenant had been deceived, that taxes of every description
fell ultimately upon the land ; and this is a point of importance in the considera-
tion of Sir Robert Walpole's attempts to introduce his great scheme for extend-
ing the Excise. He had Land and Trade against him, and was baffled by the
most violent and ignorant burst of popular clamour which it was ever the fate of
a minister to encounter. A short notice of Walpole's scheme will not, perhaps,
be unacceptable to those who take an interest in the history of finance ; and the
reception it met with is also exceedingly characteristic of the times. At that
period the fiscal laws of the country were daily outraged in the most open and
daring manner. The highwaymen, who pursued their occupation Avith impunity
on all the roads leading to London, had their counterpart in the desperate class
of men who carried on the trade of smugglers along the coast, murdering the
officers of the revenue, setting fire to custom-houses, and riding in armed gangs
of twenty or more, within half a dozen miles of London, on the banks of the
Thames. A committee of the House of Commons, appointed in 1732 to inquire
into the frauds and abuses committed in the Customs, and which did not com-
plete its task, reported that since Christmas, 1723, a period of nine years,
the smuggling of tea and brandy had been conducted openly and audaciously,
that the number of custom-house officers beaten and abused amounted to 250,
and six had been murdered. In the same period 251,320 lbs. of tea and 652,924
gallons of brandy had been seized and condemned, and upwards of 2000 persons
prosecuted; and 229 boats and other vessels had been condemned. Owing either
to the adroitness of the smugglers or the corruption of the revenue ofldcers, only
2808 hogsheads of wine had been condemned in these nine years ; but the num-
ber " run" in Hampshire, Dorsetshire, and Devonshire was 4738 ; and informa-
tions had been entered against 400 persons. The sense of honour amongst the
mercantile classes of that day was at a lp>v point. It was proved before the
102 LONDON.
committee in question that by perjury, forgery, and the grossest collusion, the
revenue was frequently defrauded to the amount of a third of the duty on tobacco ;
and that in the port of London a loss of 100,000/. per annum was sustained by
the dishonest manner in which the drawback on re-exportation was obtained,
which in some cases exceeded the sum originally received by government.
When Walpole introduced his plan, on the 15th of March, 1733, for the cor-
rection of these abuses, he held in his hand a book which had belonged to a
tobacco-merchant in the City, shewing one of the modes of defrauding the go-
vernment by collusion with officers of the revenue. False quantities were entered
at the times of importation, and this column was covered by a slip of paper art^
fully pasted down, on which were written the real quantities. The import duties
were paid on the first or false quantit}'', and the drawback obtained on the real
quantity ; and, of course, the one amount was larger than the other, and the
government was defrauded to the extent of the difference. In the case which
the minister quoted, the merchant obtained in each case a drawback to nearly
twice the amount of what he had actually paid duty for upon importation.
Another variety of fraud in the tobacco trade was that of receiving the drawback
for exportation and then re-landing it. A great trade was carried on in this way
with Guernsey, Jersey, the Isle of Man, and the ports of Dunkirk, Ostend, &c.
Besides persons apparently respectable, and custom-house officers, who were en-
gaged in plundering the revenue, watermen, lightermen, and City-porters called
gangsmen, were equally active in '' socking/' — a cant term then in use for steal-
ing tobacco from ships in the river. This practice was discovered in 1728 ; and
it appeared that fifty tons of tobacco had been '' socked" on board ships and on
the quays, and deposited in houses from London Bridge to Woolwich, in the
course of one year. One hundred and fifty custom-house officers were dismissed
for participating in these frauds, and several of them were prosecuted at the
expense of government. In mentioning this circumstance, Walpole observed,
*' And it is not a little remarkable, Avhen we recollect the professions of pa-
triotism, virtue, and disinterestedness which are now so copiously poured forth,
that not a single merchant, though the facts were so notorious and shameful,
assisted the state, either by information or pecuniary exertion, to suppress the
fraud or bring the delinquents to punishment."
The plan of the minister for the correction of these abuses was, to benefit the
fair trader by putting down his unprincipled competitors, and to improve the
revenue without the addition of new duties. Conceiving that the laws of the
Customs were insufficient to prevent fraud, there being only one check — that at
the time of importation — he proposed that tobacco should be subject to the laws
of the Excise as well as those of the Customs. While the total duty would not
be increased, the Customs duty was to be only three-farthings the pound, and he
added : — " I propose for the future that all tobacco, after being weighed at the
Custom-house, and charged with the said three-farthings per pound, shall be
lodged in a warehouse or warehouses, to be appointed by the Commissioners of
Excise, of which warehouse the merchant-importer shall have one lock and key,
and the warehouse-keeper to be appointed by the said commissioners shall have
another, that the tobacco may lie safe in that warehouse till the merchant finds a
market for it, cither for exportation or home consumption." If he sold for
THE EXCISE OFFICE. ^ 103
exportation, the quantity, after being re-weighed, was discharged of the Customs
duty of three-farthings ; and if for home consumption, he paid also the same
dut}^ and on delivering it to the buyer, an inland duty of fourpence to the
proper officer appointed to receive the same. This is precisely, in in its main
features, the admirable principle of the present warehousing system; but in
vain did Sir Kobert Walpole urge the merits of his plan, and plead for it " as a
most innocent scheme, hurtful to none but smugglers and unfair traders." In
vain did he assert and demonstrate, with great clearness, that his measure would
increase the revenue, and " tend to make London a free port, and, by conse-
quence, the market of the world." The alarm had been thoroughly sounded
from one end of the country to the other, even before the minister brought forth
his project; and when his intentions were only surmised the country was lashed
into such a state of blind fury that it seemed to *havc lost its common sense on
this occasion. Ballads were printed and sung about the streets, with a wood-cut
of a dragon with several heads at the top. This monster drew a chariot, in
which sat a portly person (Walpole), receiving large sums of gold which issued
from one of the mouths of the beast. A tobacconist set up a new device on his
paper, of three wooden shoes on a shield, with an exciseman and a grenadier, as
supporters. According to the Craftsmariy* the terms used in the game of
Quadrille were changed, and to be " beested ' Avas to be excised, while one sort
of card was called the Projector (Walpole), and others. Commissioners ; and so,
it states, the humour ran through the town. The same violent partizan manu-
factured a story of a lady having been robbed of two guineas only out of ten,
by a highwayman, whose politeness rather astonishing her, she had courage
enough to express her surprise; on which he said, '* Madam, I rob like a gentle-
man ! I assure you I do not belong to the ' Projector ;' I am none of his gang."
On the 15th of March, when Walpole introduced his new measure, ''not only
the members solicited the attendance of their friends, but letters were delivered
by the beadles and other officers in the parishes and wards of the cit}^, to induce
a numerous party to assemble at the doors and in the avenues to the House, in
order to overawe the proceedings of the legislature."! Deputies from the pro-
vincial towns had been sent to London to oppose the measure, and the corpora-
tions throughout the country were very generally active for the same object.
The newspapers of the day state, that on the 15th **^a vast number of eminent
merchants and traders appeared in the Court of Bequests' lobby, and places con-
tiguous to the House of Commons, to solicit against the excise." The debate
was maintained with great spirit until two o'clock in the morning — an hour then
very unusual, and on a division, there voted wdth the minister 266, against 205.
As Sir Robert left the house some of the exasperated people outside attempted
to do him some personal injury, but were prevented by the interference of his
son, and his friend General Churchill. Several divisions took place in subse-
quent stages of the Bill, and the ministerial majority dwindled from 61 to 17.
A private meeting was now summoned by Sir Robert of the principal members
who had supported the Bill, at which he was urged to proceed with the measure,
* ' The Craftsman,' a weekly newspaper, commenced in 1727, as the organ of the country party. It was
written with great spirit, and some of the opposition leaders occasionally contributed to it.
f Coxe's < Life of Sir R. Walpole,' vol. iii. p. 81«
104 LONDON.
notwithstanding the violence of the opposition both from within and without.
Walpole is reported to have said that, "in the present inflamed temper of the
people the Act could riot be carried into execution, without an armed force ; and
there will be an end of the liberty of England, if supplies are to be raised by the
sword ;" and he would, he said, resign rather than enforce taxes at the expense
of blood. On the 11th of April, when the Bill stood for a second reading, he
moved that it should be postponed to the 12th of June, or, in other words, he
abandoned his scheme. The Wine Bill, a measure of similar character, was
never brought in. No great national victory could be hailed with such exube-
rant triumph as that with which the country greeted the defeat of the minister's
" monster project."
This defeat was celebrated in London the same evening by bonfires, illu-
minations, ringing of bells, and 'other public demonstrations of joy throughout
the whole city : the Monument was illuminated. The demonstrations in the
provinces were, if possible, still more fervent. The rejection of a great measure
would now be known at such a place as Bristol by midnight, or within five
hours after the event had been announced; but, in 1733, the news of the
dropping of the tobacco bill was brought to that city by an express which
arrived at eleven o'clock the following night. The merchants knocked at each
other's doors to announce the good news ; bonfires were lighted in the streets,
one of large size opposite the Excise-office ; at two in the morning the bells of
the city-churches struck up a merry peal, and continued ringing all that day and
even on the Saturday ; barrels of ale were also given away in the streets; and
two effigies were burnt, probably the one representing the prime minister and
the other an exciseman. The " courier " for Liverpool with the good news passed
through Coventry on Thursday, ^' when the joy that immediately appeared in
every countenance was inexpressible, and demonstrated itself by ringing of bells,
bonfires, and illuminations, with the sound of trumpets, drums, and French horns,
warming-pans, and everything that could make a noise, while healths went
briskly round to all the honest (?) gentlemen that were against the excise." At
Liverpool, the day on which the news arrived (Friday, 13th April) was spent
''in ringing of bells, wearing of gilt cockades on leaf tobacco, under which was
written ' No Excise ;' ships' colours were displayed, and those of the Exchange,
and guns fired in honour of the glorious 204." Effigies were burnt both at
Coventry and Liverpool. At Southampton, also, '^ somebody was carried round
the town in effigy, and then thrown into the fire." At Chester, where messengers
with the intelligence arrived on the 13th, there were lighted ''the greatest num-
ber of bonfires ever known in the city :" one opposite the recorder's was kept
in for five days. A great ball was given, and the Exchange was illuminated by
204 candles, being the number of the worthy gentlemen who had opposed the
obnoxious measure. From Lewes, the Craftsman received a private letter which
began by saying : '* No news (newspapers, we suppose, are meant) come to this
place, but we are glad to hear from private accounts that the old English spirit
still appears for the preservation of our liberties and properties." At Eye, most
probably a great stronghold of smugglers, " every one expressed an insuperable
dehght m being happily rescued from further excises and wooden shoes'' At
Cambridge there were great rejoicings, but Cambridge was far outshone by
THE EXCISE OFFICE. 105
Oxford. The rampant proceedings at the latter university on the defeat of the
minister sufficiently indicate that political hatred of the most violent kind was
the chief motive of the leaders of the opposition, and truly they had a super-
fluity of ignorance and prejudice at their command, such as does not often glad
the feelings of political bigotry. At Oxford, says Archdeacon Coxe, in his ' Life
of Walpole,' " the gownsmen joined and encouraged the mob, Jacobinical cries
resounded through the town, and three days passed in this disgraceful manner
before the Vice-chancellor and proctors could restore tranquillity."
Walpole remained undismayed amidst this political storm, and so far from
being disgraced, as was fondly anticipated by his opponents, the king dismissed
several persons who had deserted the ministerial ranks. The Earl of Chester-
field was deprived of the office of Lord Steward of the Household two days after
the Excise-bill was abandoned, and his dismissal was followed by that of five other
peers who held official situations. Lord Cobham and the Duke of Bolton were
deprived of their regiments, and the friends of the minister were appointed to
several of the vacant posts. The king's speech, on closing the session, alluded
to ** the wicked endeavours that have lately been made use of to inflame the
minds of the people, and, by the most unjust misrepresentation, to raise tumults
and disorders that almost threatened the peace of the kingdom." The extrava-
gant ideas of liberty and of their own superiority over all other people which
were entertained at this period by the English are quietly satirised by Gold-
smith's ' Chinese Philosopher,' who listened to a conversation carried on between
a debtor through the gate of his prison, a porter, and a soldier, the subject being
an apprehended invasion from France. The prisoner feared that liberty, the
Englishman's prerogative, would be endangered if the French were to conquer.
The soldier with an oath exclaims that it would not so much be our liberties as
our religion that would sufler, and the porter terms the French a pack of slaves
fit only to carry burdens. Andrew Marvell, Blackstone, and Johnson were great
vilifiers of the Excise. Marvell describes it as "a hateful tax;" Blackstone,
writing in 1 765, says that ^' from its first original to the present time its very
name has been odious to the people of England," and the great lexicographer's
definition is well known.* The Excise laws have been so injudiciously framed, and
in many instances rendered so unnecessarily vexatious, that they have, in conse-
quence, obtained more than their due share of the discredit which attaches generally
to all taxes. Above six hundred acts of Parliament for enforcing Excise regulations
are a trap to even the fairest trader ; and, at the best, it is no light evil to conduct
manufacturing processes under a system of interference and regulation enforced
by heavy penalties. While the Commissioners of Excise Inquiry give some in-
stances of the prejudicial effects of such a system, they also point out the manner
in which they may be diminished.
The Gin Act of 1736, an unwise and futile attempt to put down intemperance
by a tax intended to make that liquor too dear for the poor, who solely or chiefly
* Mr. Crolver, in his variorum edition of Boswell, shows that there is very good ground for believing that
Johnson's inveterate hatred of the Excise had its origin in a prosecution against his father for some breach of their
laws. Hence tlie terms in which he speaks of a Commissioner of Excise in the ' Idler,' and the scurrilous definition
m the Dictionary. The latter was actually submitted by the Commissioners to counsel for an opinion as to its
libellous character. — See Croker's ' Boswell.'
106 LONDON.
used it, is, at least, an instructive chapter in the history of Excise laws. Sir
Joseph Jekyll, the Master of the Rolls, [was the author of this Act, which
raised the duty on gin and other spirituous liquors to twenty shillings the gallon,
and required that only licensed dealers paying fifty pounds per annum for a
license should be allowed to retail spirits. '* No man could," says Lord Chol-
mondeley, "no man would observe the law; and it gave such a turn to the spirit
of the people, that no man could, with safety, venture to become an informer."
The Jacobites endeavoured, as usual, to turn the discontent of the people at
this measure to their own profit, and serious fears were for a time entertained of
an insurrection of the populace of London. Sir Robert Walpole, writing to his
brother Horace on the 30th September, 1736, gives an account of these machin-
ations. '^ The scheme that was laid was, for all the distillers that were able, to
give away gratis, to all that should ask for it, as much gin and strong waters as
Ihey should desire, and the great distillers were to supply all the retailers and
small shops with as much as they should want, to be distributed and given away
in like manner. The shops were to begin to be opened on Tuesday evening, the
eve of Michaelmas Day, and to be continued and repeated on Wednesday night,
that the mob, being made thus drunk, might be prepared and ready to commit
any sort of mischief; and in order to this, anonymous letters were sent to
the distillers and town retailers in all parts of the town, to instruct them and in-
cite them to rise and join their friends and do as their neighbours did." Several
of these letters were placed in the hands of the government by the officers of
Excise. As a means of prevention troops were paraded in the several places
where the mob were likely to assemble. What follows is taken from the news-
papers of the day. On Tuesday a large party of the Life Guards and Horse
Grenadiers remained all night under arms in Covent Garden, and troops were
stationed at the house of Sir Joseph Jekyll, the author of the obnoxious bill.
On Wednesday various parts of London and Westminster were patrolled by
the troops. Several persons were taken into custody for shouting *' No gin,
no king," and many others were lying about the streets dead drunk with
" taking leave of Geneva." The ' Craftsman ' of October 9th says, that " Mo-
ther Gin died very quietly ;" but the real struggle against the law was of
a nature not to be put down by an armed force, and in the above paper of
the same day it is remarked, '' but though the common people are deprived
of gin, there are various drams invented and sold at the gin-shops in lieu
thereof, as sangarec, tow-row, cyder boiled with Jamaica pepper, &c.'' At
several brandy-shops jn High Holborn, St. Giles's, Thieving Lane, Tothill
Street, Rosemary Lane, Whitechapel, Shoreditch, the Mint, and Kent Street,
drams were sold under the following names : — Sangaree, tow-row, cuckold's
comfort, parliament-gin, make-shift, the last shift, the ladies' delight, the
baulk. King Theodore, or Corsica, and cholic and gripe waters. People carried
spirits about the streets for sale in barrows, baskets, litters, &c. The apothe*
caries were allowed to sell spirits to sick persons ; and on the first Saturday after
the new act came into operation, the newspapers state that "several apothecaries*
shops had so large a call for gripe and cholic waters, &c., by the poor sort of
people, the masters were obliged to employ an additional number of hands in
serving them." A person in St. James's Market sold drams coloured red in
THE EXCISE OFFICE. 107
bottles^ and a paper about them with the following directions : — " Take two or
three spoonsful of this four or five times a-da}^ or as often as the fit takes you."
In a number of the ' Old Whhf for Nov. 4, when the Act had been in operation
about a month, it is stated that, " since the suppression of gin, the coarse pieces
of beef, &c. have sold much better at the several markets about town than before ;
the lower class of people, being deprived of that liquor, have now good stomachs ;"
and the writer observes that '' this must make meat cheaper generally, for if the
coarse pieces fetch a price, the best pieces must be lowered." Some temporary
effect of this kind might be produced at first, but the evasion of the Act soon
became so extensive as to render its restrictions worse than useless. The num-
ber of offenders against the law was so great, that there were presently a number
of informers, in spite of the personal hazard attending the occupation. They
were pelted in the streets, and one of them was actually murdered by the popu-
lace. The newspapers of October 23rd announced that several apothecaries and
chemists had been convicted, and had paid the penalty of 100/. for evading the
A.ct. According to Lord Cholmondeley's speech, it appears that even magis-
:rates endangered their safety in the execution of this law ; and between intimi-
lation and the expenses of prosecution, it became a dead letter, while the people
>vere more than ever addicted to the use of ardent spirits. Before the Act was
put in force, eight of the justices at Hicks' Hall made a report, which showed
;hat within Westminster, Holborn, the Tower and Finsbury divisions, exclusive
)f London and Southwark, there w^ere 7044 houses and shops in which spirituous
iquors were sold, and this they believed to be short of the true number : they
computed that there were not fewer than 20,000 such houses within the bills of
nortality. At present the number of gin-shops in the metropolis, taking its
imits in their widest sense, is under 6000, though the population has increased
hreefold. In 1742 the Gin Act was modified, after six years of vexatious and
mprofitable trial, during two years of which period 2000 persons were convicted
)f offences against the law.
Above half a century elapsed after the defeat of Sir Robert Walpole's Excise
cheme before any minister ventured again to enter upon the consideration of
lew Excise duties. Two at least of Mr. Pitt's predecessors had been afraid of
proposing any fresh taxes of this nature ; but he successfully carried measures
>f the very same nature as those which^Walpole was compelled to abandon. In
784 he imposed an Excise duty on bricks, and several classes of traders w^ere
compelled to take out licences ; and in 1786 he proposed to transfer the greater
)art of the duty on foreign wines from the Customs to the Excise, as a means of
)reventing extensive frauds upon the revenue : for even allowing the consumption
o have been only equal to what it was in 1750, the revenue suffered an annual
OSS of 280,000^. Walpole's scheme relating to tobacco would have rendered
lecessary an '' army" of 126 additional excisemen : Mr. Pitt's plan respecting
he wine-duty required an addition of 167 officers to the Excise establishment.
Che wine-merchants of London and their brethren in the country represented
he difficulty, if not the impossibility, of subjecting wine to the Excise laws^
nd the danger of extending those laws ; but a great change had taken place in
he public mind in the course of half a century, and the people remained per-
108 LONDON.
fectly quiescent. Six divisions took place on the bill, but the minority nevei
exceeded 38. In order to put an end to the smuggling of tobacco, by which the
revenue sustained a loss of 300,000/. a-year (out of 12 million lbs. consumed^
millions were smuggled), the same minister proposed in 1789 to transfer the
greater part of the duty from the Customs to the Excise, and, of course, to sub
iect the manufacturer to the survey of the exciseman. On this occasion he
alluded to the success of the transfer of duties in regard to wine ; and although g
few members expressed their disapprobation of the extension, of the Excise
system, the measure was carried through both Houses with great ease. In the
following year a motion for the repeal of the Excise duty on tobacco was
brought forward, and was supported by 147 votes ; but it was resisted by th(
minister, who had a majority of 41. He showed that the change effected ir
the previous session was already benefitting the country at the rate of 300,000/
a-year.
Pitt could now carry any fiscal measures which he seriously thought neces
sary ; and in 1793 not fewer than twenty-nine articles were subject to the Excisd
laws, and the gross amount of this branch of revenue was about ten millions ano
a half. In 1797 the number of officers employed in England was 4777. The
highest amount which the Excise produced in any one year, for England, was
27,400,300/. in 1821 ; and the largest number of officers in this department, foi
the United Kingdom, was 7986 in 1815, their salaries amounting to 904,922/
Between 1824 and 1835 duties were transferred to the Customs, which yieldec
11,238,300/. a-year, and others were entirely repealed, amounting to 6,782,000/.!
making together 18,020,300/. The duty on several articles has also beer|
reduced. The amount of duty paid into the chief office, in 1829, for the ' Londor!
Collection,* was 6,013,159/., and in 1835 only 1,462,919/. In 1841 the gros;
Excise revenue for the United Kingdom was 15,477,674/., and the charges o
collection amounted to 1,047,360/., or 6/. \5s. Sd, per cent. At present only tei
articles are subject to the Excise Duty, namely, auctions, bricks, glass, hops
licences, malt, paper, soap, British spirits, and vinegar.
In 1835 the number of traders in England, Ireland, and Scotland, who wen
surveyed periodically by Excise officers, was 588,000, divided into five classes
Firstly, persons visited for the purpose of charging the '* growing " duties, a
maltsters, soap-makers, brick-makers, paper-makers, &c. Secondl}^, person;
who paid a licence according to the extent of their business, as brewers an(
tobacconists. Thirdly, innkeepers and retailers of beer, and others who dealt ii
articles upon which an Excise duty was levied. Fourthly, persons who dealt ii
tea, coffee, pepper, tobacco, and other articles which paid Customs duties ; and
lastly, there were others who paid no duty, but were subject to a cautionary sur
vey — tallow-melters, for example, as a check upon soap-makers. The cost o
these surveys amounted to 533,902/. for the English country Collections, and t
41,390/. for the London Collection. The duty on spirits in the London CoUec
tion amounted to 928,556/., and on soap to 208,266/. The limits of the distric
in which the chief office is situated excludes parts of the metropolis, so that ih
above statements do not afford a correct notion of its relative importance. Somf
traders who live in London go out of London to pay their duties, those wh
THE EXCISE OFFICE.
109
*eside just beyond the extremity of South wark paying at Greenwich in the
Rochester Collection ; and those in a part of St. Pancras parish are in the Hert-
ford Collection, while a trader living near Croydon pays his duties in Broad
Street. In 1835 three distilleries at Bromley, Whitechapel, and Thames Bank
contributed 622,000/., and two soap-manufacturers in the metropolitan district
mid 150,000/., but not all of them at the chief office. Since 1835 several of
he surveys have been abolished either by acts of Parliament or by direction
)f the Treasury. Thus, above 310,000 dealers in tea, wine, tobacco, and brewers
lave been exempted from Excise control. The number of surveys in one year
)f tea, wine, and tobacco dealers was about fifteen millions; 1,657,959 permits
vere annually required before goods in certain quantities could leave their
)remises ; and 778,988 stock-books were supplied to them to keep an account of
heir stock and sales. These administrative improvements are of real practical
ralue, and the restrictions so long insisted upon are proved on the whole to have
)een useless.
We have now to speak of the establishment in Broad Street, which is charged
vith the collection and management of the Excise revenue. Before 1823 the
Excise revenue in Scotland and Ireland was managed by separate boards, con-
listing all together of twelve commissioners, each board being independent of the
ilnglish board. The business is now better conducted by seven instead of
[Hall of Excise Office.]
venty-one commissioners. The Chairman has a salary of 2000/. a year; the
deputy- Chairman has 1500/., and the other Commissioners have 1200/. per
lanum each. The Commissioners hold courts, and decide summarily in
|ises of infraction of the Excise laws. Formerly the Board never had any com-
unication with traders, except by verbal messages through their officers, but
nee 1838 they have adopted the plan of giving written answers. The number
110 LONDON.
of persons employed at the chief office is about five hundred, who were princi-
pally distributed in the following departments, in 1835 : — The 7 Commis-
sioners, who constitute the Board ; employed in the Secretary's office, 20
persons ; in the Correspondents' office, 30 ; in the Solicitors', 24, the two latter
offices havino- each subdivisions for the Scotch and Irish business. In the
Accountants' office there were 72 persons, with similar subdivisions; in the
Receiver-General's department, 112, and 34 in that of the Comptroller-General;
8 in the Auditor's office; 8 in the Security office; 10 in the Store office; 5 in the
Diary office. The number of Surveying General Examiners was 112. Many
important changes have taken place in the organization of the chief office since
1835. The departments of Account for England, Scotland, and Ireland have
been consolidated; that of Comptroller of Cash has been abolished; the Comp-
troller-General and Auditor- General's department have been consolidated. The
Excise Printing-office was abolished by authority of the Treasury in 1841; but
a Distillery, for the re-distillation of smuggled foreign spirits, is still under the
management of the chief office. In the first twenty years after the peace consi-
derable reductions were made in the Excise Office, in consequence of duties being
abolished. The number on the English establishment reduced in these twenty
years was 847. The total repeal of the salt duty was followed by the reduction
of 196 officers; salaries, 18,962/. By the repeal of the leather duty 30 officers
were reduced, salaries 3362/. ; by the repeal of the beer duty 228 officers, salaries
24,045/.; of the duty on printed cottons by the reduction of 148 officers, salaries
15,064/.; and the reduction of the duty on candles was followed by a reduction
of207officerSj whose salaries amounted to 22,690/. In 1797 the Excise esta-
blishment was considered to be in so efficient a state, and so well managed, that
Mr. Pitt pointed it out as a model for other public departments.
The outdoor business in London is conducted by twelve General Surveyors,
to each of whom is assigned a district called a '' survey," and these are broken
up into about fifty smaller divisions, in each of which a house is rented for the
business of the department. The English country establishment, in 1 835, consisted
of 55 Collectors and 2 Supernumeraries, 61 Clerks, 316 Supervisors, 1023 Divi-
sions, 1499 Ride officers, 68 Permanent Assistants and 7 temporary, 54 Supernu-
meraries, and 104 Permit Writers. The fifty-five Collections in England and
Wales (exclusive of London) are divided into 315 districts, and these districts
into ''rides" and "foot-walks." Where the traders are scattered, and the officer
is required to keep a horse, it is called a ride ; but where they are more nume-
rous, and a horse is not necessary, it is called a division or foot-walk. The
circuit of a " ride " is about eighteen miles, and that of a division is under six-
teen. The Collector, the chief officer of a " Collection," is allowed a clerk, and
visits each market-town eight times in the course of a year, to receive the
duties and to transact other business connected with the department, besides
having to attend to matters relating to the discipline and efficiency of the service.
The number of officers in a Collection varies from forty to ninety. The super-
visors are in charge of a '' district," and next come the ride and division officers
whose operations he constantly checks by surveying, at uncertain times, the same
premises. The labours of a supervisor and the officers under him are often verj
THE EXCISE OFFICE. Ill
heav}^ The latter are called upon to survey manufacturing processes at the
most untimely hours. Before going out each day the officer leaves a memoran-
dum behind him, stating the places he intends to survey, and the order in which
he will visit them, and he is obliged to record the hour and minute when he
commences each survey. He is never sure that the Supervisor will not re-
survey his work, and if errors are discovered they must be entered in the Super- -
visor's *^ diary." These diaries are transmitted to the chief office in London
every two months, and no officer is promoted without a strict examination into
them, in reference to his efficiency. The Surveying-General Examiner is a
check upon the Supervisors, and is dispatched from the chief office to a certain
district, without any previous intimation. When a supervisor's character is
taken out for promotion, his books are examined for one year, and the books of
all the officers under him for a quarter of a year ; all the accounts are recast,
and if in the books of the officers errors are discovered, the supervisor is quite as
responsible as if they had taken place in his own books ; and a certain degree of
neglect on his part would retard his promotion. This inquiry is conducted by
the country examiners; and when this has been done, the investigation is taken
up by a surveying- general examiner, for the purpose of ascertaining the disposal
of the supervisor's time: whether it has been judiciously employed or not;
whether he has been too long employed on a duty which ought to have occupied
a shorter period, &c. Two months are required for completing the investigation ;
and when the report is laid before the Board the name of the officer is not given.
The clerks of the Diary office have all been distinguished for their ability as
supervisors. No one is promoted unless, having served a certain fixed period in
one grade, he petitions for advancement, but this involves the rigid examination
just alluded to, which is technically termed *' taking out a character." It is now
doubted whether Mr. Pitt's plan for the periodical removal of officers from one
district to another is attended with so much advantage to the service as has
generally been supposed. A corrupt officer will endeavour to effect a collusion
with the trader of another district, and the fraudulent trader will attempt to
corrupt the new officer. Frequent removals also interfere with the comfort of
families, and interrupt education. About 1100 officers change their residences
each year.
Previous to 1768 the Excise Office was on the west side of Ironmonger Lane :
it was formerly the mansion of Sir J. Frederick. In 1768 the trustees of the
Gresham estates obtained an act to enable them to make over the ground whereon
Gresham College stood to the Crown for a perpetual rent of 500/. per annum.
" For this paltry consideration," says Mr. Burgon, in his ' Life and Times of Sir
Thomas Gresham,' " was Gresham College annihilated ; nay, the very site of it
parted with for ever.'' He adds : — '' Will it be believed that the City and the
Mercer's Company further agreed to pay conjointly, out of their respective shares
of the Gresham estate, 1800/. to the Commissioners of his Majesty's Excise, to-
wards the charge of pulling down the College and building an Excise Office."
I The dismantling of the College was begun on the 8th of August, 1768. The
I Excise Office is plain in design, but of most commanding aspect. The merits of
this edifice are known far less extensively than many others of inferior character.
112
LONDON.
There are architects of the present day who state that for grandeur of mass and
greatness of manner, combined with simplicity, it is not surpassed by any building
in the metropolis. It consists of two ranges, one of stone, the other of brick, sepa-
rated from each other by a large court, which, during the re -building of the
Koyal Exchange, has been temporarily used by the mercantile and shipping
interests as an Exchange. The entrance to each structure is by a staircase in
the centre, which leads by a long passage to the various apartments of the
commissioners and clerks. The architect of the Excise Office was Mr. James
G an don.
[Excise Office Excliange.]
[Interior' of Merchant Tailors' Hall, Threadncedle Street.]
CVIII.— THE COMPANIES OF LONDON,
It is with great institutions as with great men — if they would preserve their
reputation unimpaired, they should never survive the loss of their distinguishing
powers ; or, we may rather say, the case of the institution is the worst, as being
in every respect the most injurious of the two. The accidents of life die with
the man, and are forgotten, leaving all that is truly worthy of remembrance alone
to be remembered; but institutions unfortunately will not die except by a
slow, lingering process that too often wears out alike our patience and our gra-
titude, and at the same time makes us confound right and wrong together, by
teaching us, however unconsciously, to infer their past from their present un-
fitness. Saddening are the degradations to which they are subject through this
unfortunate tenacity of life. Who, for instance, can read without regret of the
once mighty fellowships of London, being told by authority that their '' ruling
bodies are in effect mere trustees for charitable purposes or chartered festivals,'*
VOL. V. I
114 LONDON.
and that thxC " freemen and liverymen, or commonalty, are persons entitled to
participate in these charities, to partake of the feasts of the Company, and quali-
fied to be promoted to the office of trustees ; and in this light alone are the
different orders of the Companies to be viewed" ? * It may be true; but, rather
than that such things should have been said, one cannot but heartily wish that
the Companies had manfully perished in the breach when Charles II. opened
his quo warranto battery against them, and, after destroying their independence,
left them to sink into inglorious inactivity. But the Commissioners in the above
passage refer only to the principal Companies, those which had grown so rich in
the days of their prosperity as to have charities that now, in their decline, re-
quire management — funds that will support '' chartered festivals;" but how is it
with the others ? Why, whilst some have disappeared altogether, the Musicians,
alas ! are " very poor, and in debt to their treasurer," and the Masons can only
occasionally — and the occasions are very infrequent — have a dinner even on
Lord Mayors' days ? But the case that most touches our sympathies is that of
the Pinmakers; there is a romance and a pathos about their position inexpres-
sibly attractive and touching : '' No returns relating to any bindings or ad-
missions to the Company, whether in right of patrimony or otherwise^ appear in
the Chamberlain's books within the last forty years. It is supposed that one or
two individuals belonging to the Company are yet living,"t bearing about with
them, no doubt, in their mysterious obscurity, a high consciousness of the unsus-
pected dignities that have centered in their persons : but they are probably poor,
as well as proud, and therefore doubly resentful of the neglect with which they
have been treated : the very Commissioners said not a word more about them, —
did not even propose a commission of discovery to restore them to the civic
brotherhood ; so they will die and make no sign, — the very skies looking as
bright or as dull as usual, Cheapside in a state of perfect unconsciousness, —
brother corporators dining, or talking of dining, at the very instant, haply, that
the last of the '' Pin-makers " is leaving the world.
But now, forgetting awhile what the Companies are, let us see what they were
three or four centuries ago.
It is the morning of the festival of Corpus Christi; and the Skinners are
rapidly thronging into the hall, in their new suits or liveries, and falling into
their places in the procession that is being formed. As they go forth, and pass
along the principal streets, most imposing is the appearance they present. Scat-
tered at intervals along the line are seen the lights of above a hundred waxen
torches '' costly garnished," and among the different bodies included in the pro-
cession are some two hundred clerks and priests, in surplices and copes, singing.
After these come the Sheriffs' servants, then the clerks of the compters, the
Sheriffs' chaplains, the Mayor's sergeants, the Common Council, the Mayor and
Aldermen in their brilliant scarlet robes; and, lastly, the members of the Com-
pany which it is the business of the day to honour, the Skinners, male and female.
The church of St. Lawrence, in the Poultry, is their destination, where they
all advance up to the altar of Corpus Christi, and make their offerings, and then
stay whilst mass is performed. From the church they return in the same state
to the»hall to dinner. Extensive are the preparations for so numerous a company.
Besides the principal and the side -tables in the hall, there are tables laid out
* Corporation Commission, Second Report, Introduction, p. 20. f Report, p. 298.
THE COMPANIES OF LOJNDON. 115
in all the chief apartments of the building, for the use of the guests and their
attendants : the officers of the Company occupying one, the maidens another, the
players and the minstrels a third, and so on. Plate is glittering on every side ;
the choice hangings are exciting admiration; the materials for the pageant sus-
pended from the roof attract many an inquiring glance ; the fragrance of the
precious Indian sandal- wood is filling the atmosphere, though not altogether
to the exclusion of the still more precious exhalations which come stealing up to
the nose and thence downward into the heart of the anxious epicures, who you
may perceive looking on with a sort of uneasy, abstracted air, whilst the true
business of the day — the election of the Masters and Wardens — is going on in the
great parlour, whither all the Assistants (the executive of the Company) have
retired: the said epicures know, if you do not, to how many accidents flesh is
heir in the kitchen, how easily the exact point of perfection between too much
and too little done may be missed in the roasted swans, or the exquisite flavour
of the mortrewes degenerate into coarseness or insipidity, if the cook swerves but
a hair's breadth from the true proportions of the materials. The guests now
seat themselves, the ladies according to their rank at the different tables, but in
the best places at each ; the Lady-Mayoress with the Sheriffs' ladies sitting, of
course, at the principal board, with the distinguished guests of the day ; the
noblemen and others, with the Priors of the great conventual establishments of
London — St. Mary Overies, St. Bartholomew, and Christ Church. Of the
dinner itself what shall we say that can adequately describe its variety, pro-
fusion, and costliness, or the skill with which it has been prepared ? The boars'
heads and the mighty barons of beef seem almost to require an apology for
their introduction amidst the delicacies that surround them in the upper division
of the table (the part above the stately salt cellar), where we see dishes of
brawn, fat swans, congor and sea-hog, dishes of '' great birds with little ones toge-
ther," dishes of Leche Lombard, made of **^pork pounded in a mortar with eggs,
raisins, dates, sugar, salt, pepper, spices, milk of almonds, and red wine, the
whole boiled in a bladder ;" and we know not how many other dishes of similarly
elaborate composition ; whilst the " subtleties " so '' marvellously cunning
ywrought," tell in allegory the history of the Company, and of the Saviour as
its patron, and reveal to us the artist — if not exactly the hero — as cook.
After dinner, whilst the spice-bread, hippocras, and comfits go round, the election
ceremonies take place. The Master and Wardens enter with garlands on their
heads, preceded by the minstrels playing, and the beadle ; then the garlands are
taken off, and after a little show of trying whose heads among the Assistants the
said garlands best fit, it is found, by a remarkable coincidence, that the persons
previously chosen are the right wearers. The oath of office is then administered ;
beginning, in the case of the Wardens, with an injunction that they shall swear
that they will well and truly occupy the office, that they shall ' arear ' no new
customs, nor bind the commonalty of the said craft to any new charges, nor yet
discharge any duty to their hurt ; and that they shall not lay down any of their
good old customs, or acts written, without the assent of the said commonalty.
With renewed ceremony a cup is next brought in, from Avhich the old Master
and old Wardens drink to the new Master and new Wardens, who finally assume
their garlands, and are duly acknowledged by the fraternity.
i2
116 LONDON.
The play is now eagerly looked for ; the tables are cleared away, the pageant
is let down from the roof; the actors, nine in number, approach, and the entire
audience is speedily engrossed in the history of Noah's flood. There remains
but to pay for all the good things enjoyed — the members of the Company at a
fixed rate for themselves, and at the Wardens' discretion for the guests they may
have individually invited — to drink another cup of hippocras, and to depart.
The annual solemnities are not, however, finished till the Sunday following,
when, according to the ordinances (we transcribe from the Fishmongers'), the
members '' afore mete tyme " shall " be all present in the same church in their
livery aforesaid, there to hear a solemn mass or requiem for all the souls of the
same fraternity, and for all Christian souls ; and at which mass the priest of the
same fraternity, openly in the pulpit shall rehearse and recommend to all good
prayers, by name, all the brethren and sisters, quick and dead, of the foresaid
fraternity, and all Christians ;" after which there is another, but minor feast, and
then the liveries are paid for.
Following the newly- elected officers into the details of the business that
awaited them, we begin to have some conception of the true nature of a metro-
politan company at the period referred to. And first, as to their chief duty — the
domestic government of the craft. This comprised many parts ; among which
the ordinary matters of binding apprentices, admitting freemen, and so on,
formed but the least important. If there were young men belonging to the
craft who, giving themselves up to idleness and unlawful games, wandered
about as vagabonds within the City, it was the duty of the Master and Wardens
to desire and require them to work for reasonable wages, and to take them before
the Mayor and Aldermen for punishment if they refused. If members of the
Company were rebellious to its ordinances, as by taking unsold wares into the
country, or by employing '' forens,'' that is, persons not free of the craft, and
persisting therein, or were found to have spoken with disrespect of its officers,
the Master and Wardens again had to bring back the rebel and the slanderer to
due subjection and reverence, either by entreaties, or by the still more cogent
influences of fine and imprisonment. A case in the Grocers' books may here he
mentioned. One Simon Potkin, of the Key, at Aldgate, having been fined by
the Chamberlain, said, with humorous audacity, that he had given money to
the Masters of his Company that he might sell at his own will. He got into
trouble with his Company in consequence, but was finally pardoned on paying
?>s.Ad. for a swan to be eaten by the Masters, out of which he was allowed
his own share. This took place under the mayoralty of Whittington, who was
particularly watchful of the misdeeds of the retail publicans. Safe keeping of
the trade secrets was a matter most carefully enjoined and provided for, not only
in the oath taken by all freemen, but in specific ordinances, to disobey which
subjected the offender to the heaviest displeasure of the Company, and of course
to punishment. The names of craft and mystery, so often applied to the trades,
are said to be from this source, though Madox derives them from the French,
who, he remarks, use mestiere for a craft, art, or employment. The preventing
or arranging disputes among the members formed another important branch of
the duties of the officers. Among the ordinances of the Grocers was one to the
effect, that no member of the craft should take the house of a neighbour who
THE COMPANIES OF LONDON. 117
also belonged to the fraternity against his wish, or do any thin <>• to enhance his
rent, on penalty of a heavy fine. In cases of personal quarrel, where one party
was evidently the offender, he was compelled to ask forgiveness ; and in others
after an ineffectual attempt at mediation, parties were duly permitted to '"^o to
the law." Apprentices, of course, were still more directly beneath the super-
vision and control of the Master and Wardens j and some curious records exist in
connexion with the discipline on this subject in the books of the Companies, as
noticed in Mr. Herbert's valuable work.* Here is an example of the correction
of an apprentice for a faux pas of a particular nature. The Wardens caused to
be made two porters' frocks, like porters of crafts, and two hoods of the same
canvas, made after vizor fashion, with a space for the mouth and the eyes left
open only; wherein, the next court-day, within the parlour, two tall men, having
the said frocks upon them, because they should not be known, (for otherwise the
'' bold prentices" would no doubt have effectually prevented any more such kind
attentions from the same quarter,) ''came in with twopenny worth of birchen rods,
and there, in presence of the said Master and Wardens, withouten any words
speaking, they pulled off the doublet and shirt of the said John Eolls, and there
upon him (being naked) they spent all the said rods, for his said unthrifty de-
meanour." Sumptuary laws also occupied the attention of the heads of the
fraternity, and more particularly with regard to the class just mentioned, the
apprentices. Those in the Ironmongers' Company, for instance, were to dress
"in such wise that it be no dishonesty to the Company, but that they be appa-
relled reasonable and honest, that is to say, for the holy days, hose, ' throwts/
shirts, doublets, coats, gowns or cloaks, with other necessaries, such as may be
conveniently honest and clean;" and on the '' working day such as may be
honest and profitable to keep them from cold and wet;" and then it is empha-
tically added, ** they shall not suffer their hair to grow long." Fishmongers'
apprentices were directed by their Company to wear a gown in the fish-market,
but not out of it. As to the more general application of sumptuary laws, we
find some noticeable entries in the books of the Merchant Tailors; in 1574 a
member was committed to prison '' for that he came to this house in a cloak of
pepadore, a pair of hose lined with taffety, and a shirt edged with silver, con-
trary to the ordinances." Another member, it appears, was warned that he had
on ''apparel not fit for his abilities to wear," and enjoined reformation. But the
most amusing illustration of the interference of the Companies in this matter is
that given by Malcolm, on the authority of the Ironmongers' books. Elizabeth,
it is well known, was scarcely less anxious about the dress of her subjects than
about her own, with the difference, however, that her anxiety was to restrain the
love of splendour in the one case, and to encourage it in the other. So, fresh orders
to her milliners, and fresh precepts to the Companies, flew thick and fast, and it was
in consequence of one of the latter that the citizens were regaled one day with a
rich bit of fun at Bishopsgate, where two members of the Ironmongers' and two
of the Grocers' Companies were found stationed as early as seven o'clock to
examine the habits of every one who passed through. Lastly, there remain
to be noticed, among the regular duties of the officers of the Companies, the
Trade Searches, when the Grocers' Wardens were bidden *' to go and essayen
weights, powders, confections, plaisters, ointments, and all other things belonging
* ' History of the Twelve great Livery Companies/
]]g LONDON.
to the same craft ;" those of the Fishmongers' to examine fish, the Vintners' to
taste wines, the Merchant Tailors' to examine cloth, and measure the measure
used in its sale, for which purpose they had a silver yard, with their arms en-
<yraved upon it; and most of the other Companies had a like power. Where
anything wrong was discovered, the process was very summary — seizure of the
article if worth seizing, destruction if it were not, with the addition of imprison-
ment in very bad cases. In 1571, certain makers of comfits being accused of
minHino- starch with the sugar in their delicacies, the stock — '•' a good quantity"
of one of the chief offenders was put into a tub of w^ater, and so consumed and
poured out. That this power was really beneficial, and therefore necessary to
such of the Companies as had it not, is evident from the petition presented to
the Court of Aldermen by the Wax- Chandlers' Company in the reign of Ed-
ward III., where they speak feelingly of their craft being ''greatly slandered of
all the good folk of the said craft and of the City, for that they have not Masters
chosen and sworn of the said craft" before the Mayor and Aldermen, " as other
crafts have, to oversee the defaults which be in their said crafts :" the power
they desire was accordingly granted them, of naming four searchers, and their
bye-laws were at the same time sanctioned, the first of which explains the rule
by which the searchers would have to be guided: "That no wax-chandler of the
said craft make any torches, tapers, prykettes, nor none other manner of chan-
dlerie of wax mixed with rosin and code, but of good wax and wick ;" and to
facilitate discovery of the wrong-doers, every chandler was to have a mark,
'' and it set to torches, torchetts, and tapers which he maketh." We learn from
these bye-laws that the members of the trade were accustomed to lend out wax
tapers for hire ; that the tapers were both round and square, and that it was cus-
tomary for persons to bring wax to them to be made into tapers at a certain
charge for the making, and more particularly for '^'torches, torchetts, prykettes,
or perchers, chaundele or tapers for women ayenst Candelmas." A few words
on the chief places where the Trade Searches had generally to be pursued, or in
other words, on the localities of the different London trades, may not be unac-
ceptable. Cloth Fair was, as its name implies, the chief mart of the Merchant
Tailors' commodities, Foster Lane of the Goldsmiths, Ironmonger Lane of the Iron-
mongers, Old Fish Street and Fish Street Hill of the Fishmongers, the Mercery
— a part of Cheapside between Bow Church and Friday Street — of the Mercers
and Haberdashers, and who were previously on the other side, where the Mer-
cers' Hall now stands. Silks and velvets appear to have formed the chief articles
of trade with the Mercers, as they gradually resigned to the Haberdashers the
sale of all the less important wares. The Haberdashers dealt in hats, millinery,
small articles of jewellery, pins — a lucrative commodity — and a thousand other
things, in addition to some of those which still belong to the trade. The Drapers
did their chief business in Blackwell Hall, the site of the present Bankruptcy
Court ; the Grocers, or Pepperers, as they were once called, were mostly to be
found in Soper Lane ; the Butchers in Cheapside, Newgate Market, and at the
Stocks, the site of the present Mansion House ; whilst the Tanners favoured the
localities - without Newgate" and " without Cripplegate."
In this grant of powers to the Wax Chandlers, we see one example of the juris-
diction of the Mayor and Aldermen over the Companies; a jurisdiction so com-
plete, from time immemorial, that the Brewers in 1435, addressing the former.
THE COMPANIES OF LONDON.
119
[Mercers' Hall, Cheapside.]
style him *' their right worshipful and gracious lord and sovereign, the Mayor of
London;" and precisely the same idea is conveyed, in different words, a century
and a half later, when he is spoken of as " the Warden of all the Companies."
The duties arising from the connection between the Companies and the Civic Cor-
poration, therefore, form the second division of the duties of the officers of the
former, and a great many unpleasant matters they involved. Some of them are
interesting as illustrative of the working of the system. Thus, for instance, as to the
monopoly enjoyed by the Companies, we may see that we should greatly err if we
looked upon the constitution of the Companies as framed for that especial object,
using the word monopoly in its present sense, though there is no doubt it
had a great tendency to establish the evils that, under a different state of things,
have made the very idea hateful to us. But this tendency the more enlightened
governors of the City made it their business to repress, and in a manner that
must then have been tolerably effectual. The Brewers' records furnish a case in
point, and Whittington is again one of the principal actors. In 1422 he laid an
information before his successor in the Mayoralty, Robert Chichele, in con-
sequence of which the latter " sent for the Masters and twelve of the most worthy
of our Company to appear at the Guildhall ; to whom John Fray, the Recorder,
objected a breach of government, for which 20/. should be forfeited, for selling
dear ale. After much dispute about the price and quality of malt, wherein
] ] s LONDON.
to the same craft ;" those of the Fishmongers' to examine fish, the Vintners' to
taste wines, the Merchant Tailors' to examine cloth, and measure the measure
used in its sale, for which purpose they had a silver yard, with their arms en-
graved upon it; and most of the other Companies had a like power. Where
anything wrong was discovered, the process was very summary — seizure of the
article if worth seizing, destruction if it were not, with the addition of imprison-
ment in very bad cases. In 1571, certain makers of comfits being accused of
mingling starch with the sugar in their delicacies, the stock — '*' a good quantity"
Qf QYie of the chief offenders was put into a tub of w^ater, and so consumed and
poured out. That this power was really beneficial, and therefore necessary to
such of the Companies as had it not, is evident from the petition presented to
the Court of Aldermen by the Wax- Chandlers' Company in the reign of Ed-
ward III., where they speak feelingly of their craft being '^greatly slandered of
all the good folk of the said craft and of the City, for that they have not Masters
chosen and sworn of the said craft" before the Mayor and Aldermen, " as other
crafts have, to oversee the defaults which be in their said crafts :" the power
they desire was accordingly granted them, of naming four searchers, and their
bye-laws were at the same time sanctioned, the first of which explains the rule
by which the searchers would have to be guided : " That no w ax-chandler of the
said craft make any torches, tapers, prykettes, nor none other manner of chan-
dlerie of wax mixed with rosin and code, but of good wax and wick ;" and to
facilitate discovery of the wrong-doers, every chandler was to have a mark,
''and it set to torches, torchetts, and tapers which he maketh." We learn from
these bye-laws that the members of the trade were accustomed to lend out wax
tapers for hire ; that the tapers were both round and square, and that it was cus-
tomary for persons to bring wax to them to be made into tapers at a certain
charge for the making, and more particularly for " torches, torchetts, prykettes,
or perchers, chaundele or tapers for women ay ens t Candelmas." A few words
on the chief places where the Trade Searches had generally to be pursued, or in
other words, on the localities of the different London trades, may not be unac-
ceptable. Cloth Fair was, as its name implies, the chief mart of the Merchant
Tailors' commodities, Foster Lane of the Goldsmiths, Ironmonger Lane of the Iron-
mongers, Old Fish Street and Fish Street Hill of the Fishmongers, the Mercery
— a part of Cheapside between Bow Church and Friday Street — of the Mercers
and Haberdashers, and who were previously on the other side, where the Mer-
cers' Hall now stands. Silks and velvets appear to have formed the chief articles
of trade with the Mercers, as they gradually resigned to the Haberdashers the
sale of all the less important wares. The Haberdashers dealt in hats, m.illinery,
small articles of jewellery, pins — a lucrative commodity — and a thousand other
things, in addition to some of those which still belong to the trade. The Drapers
did their chief business in Blackwell Hall, the site of the present Bankruptcy
Court; the Grocers, or Pepperers, as they were once called, were mostly to be
found in Soper Lane ; the Butchers in Cheapside, Newgate Market, and at the
Stocks, the site of the present Mansion House ; whilst the Tanners favoured the
localities " without Newgate" and '' without Cripplegate."
In this grant of powers to the Wax Chandlers, we see one example of the juris-
diction of the Mayor and Aldermen over the Companies; a jurisdiction so com-
plete, from time immemorial, that the Brewers in 1435, addressing the former.
THE COMPANIES OF LONDON.
119
M.:yl\.2il- l\Y.
[Mercers' Hall, Cheapside.]
style him '^ their right worshipful and gracious lord and sovereign^ the Mayor of
London;" and precisely the same idea is conveyed, in different words, a century
and a half later, when he is spoken of as " the Warden of all the Companies."
The duties arising from the connection between the Companies and the Civic Cor-
poration, therefore, form the second division of the duties of the officers of the
former, and a great many unpleasant matters they involved. Some of them are
interesting as illustrative of the working of the system. Thus, for instance, as to the
monopoly enjoyed by the Companies, we may see that we should greatly err if we
looked upon the constitution of the Companies as framed for that especial object,
using the word monopoly in its present sense, though there is no doubt it
had a great tendency to establish the evils that, under a different state of things,
have made the very idea hateful to us. But this tendency the more enlightened
governors of the City made it their business to repress, and in a manner that
must then have been tolerably effectual. The Brewers' records furnish a case in
point, and Whittington is again one of the principal actors. In 1422 he laid an
information before his successor in the Mayoralty, Robert Chichele, in con-
sequence of which the latter " sent for the Masters and twelve of the most worthy
of our Company to appear at the Guildhall ; to whom John Fray, the Recorder,
objected a breach of government, for which 201. should be forfeited, for selling
dear ale. After much dispute about the price and quality of malt, wherein
122 LONDON.
they could manage very well without, but as undeniably theirs when they could
not. The impudence, as we cannot but call it, with which Elizabeth applied
for money in these quarters is really ludicrous. The Ironmongers once received
from her the following exquisite specimen of the manner in which royalty bor-
rows, in which the reader will not fail to remark how attentive the Queen
had been to consider how they should get, as well as the conditions on which
they were to lend, the sum demanded. '' These," writes the stately Elizabeth,
through her mouth-piece the Mayor, and, as we could fancy, with her ruff and
stomacher looking stiffer and fiercer than ever, '' these are to will and command
you that forthwith you prepare in readiness the sum of 60^. of the stock of your
hall, and if you have not so much in store, then you must borrow the same at
interest, at the only costs and losses of your hall, to be lent to the Queen's
Majesty for one whole year," &c., and this they were to fail in at their *' peril!"
But there is a still richer trait of the virgin Queen to be mentioned : having at
one time, by these and similar means, got more money than she knew exactly
what to do with, she actually made the citizens receive it back again in loans of
from 50/. to 500/. each, on security of gold and silver plate, or other equally
satisfactory deposits, at seven per cent. There is nothing in Swift or Fielding's
fictitious satires to equal this touch of positive truth. Elizabeth was, at the
same time, too politic a guardian of her Exchequer to fdl it by one method only :
if the scourge could not but be felt, still it was not necessary to make it always
be felt in the same place ; so, borrowing a hint from the continental governments,
she established in 1567 our first lottery, and her loving friends the Companies
were immediately desired to avail themselves of its advantages. They did so,
and, whatever they thought of the result, it was no doubt satisfactory to the
ingenious author. Unfortunately, however, when another lottery was set on foot
for armour, in 1585, the Lord Mayor had to use, among his other arguments, one
of a very suspicious nature, but which, it seems, the experience of the former
rendered necessary; he had to assure the Companies that there should be a
'' true delivery of the prizes to the winners," and to add something about the
appointment of a body of persons to see justice done. To quicken his own and
the Sheriff's zeal in *' persuading every man to venture," her Majesty promised,
in respect of the ^' forward service of the said lottery,'' one basin and one ewer, of
100/. value, to each of them. The Merchant Tailors' books exhibit a very clear
mtimation of their ideas on the subject at the period in the following couplet : —
" One bird in the hand is worth two in the wood ;
If we get the great lot, it will do us good."
From forced loans and lotteries v/e advance to the patents, a system of direct
infringement upon the chief powers and rights of the Companies, for the most
selfish purposes, and with the most reckless disregard of the certain evils that
must accrue. The scheme was first directed against the Brewers' Company, but
failed at the outset. With the Leathersellers it was more successful. One of the
hangers-on of the court, Edward Darcy, obtained a patent from Elizabeth to
search and seal all the leather through England, and found it, says Strype, '' a
very gainful business to him;" but the whole body of persons connected, directly
or indirectly, with the trade, mustered their forces, and exhibited so formidable
THE COMPANIES OF LONDON.
123
[Leathersellers' Hall, Bishopsgate Street.]
an appearance that, to avoid a tumult, tlie patent was revoked. The wardens of
the Leathersellers' Company distinguished themselves greatly in this contest by
their firm adherence to the rights of the fraternity lodged in their keeping, in
spite of threats and actual imprisonment. But, notwithstanding these checks, the
scheme proceeded, till there were patentees for currants, salt, iron, powder, cards,
calf-skins, felts, leather, ox-shin bones, train-oil, and many other articles. Hume
observes, that when this list was once " read in the House, a member cried, ' Is
not bread in the number ? ' ' Bread ! ' said every one with astonishment ; 'Yes,
I assure you,' replied he, ' if affairs go on at this rate we shall have bread re-
duced to a monopoly before the next Parliament.'" This system, so vicious in
itself, as transferring powers from highly respectable bodies of men, who had a
deep interest in using them for the benefit of the community, to single indivi-
duals, whose only object or desire was to turn them to the greatest possible
pecuniary advantage, was made infinitely worse by the practice of transfer of
those powers as matters of bargain and sale from the original patentee to others;
*' who," remarks the author just mentioned, "were thereby enabled to raise com-
modities to what price they pleased, and who put invincible restraints upon all
commerce, industry, and emulation in the arts." It was in the reign of JamxCS
that the system rose to its highest point, then began to decline, and at last fell to
rise no more in 1641, when the Parliament fined severely two patentees for ob-
taining a wine-license from the King, Charles. We may conclude these notices
of the connexion between the government and the Companies, by one or two of a
more agreeable nature. Whenever any great public occasion rendered a pecu-
niary demand upon the Companies reasonable, there seems to have been a
liberality shown worthy of the metropolis ; they assisted largely in the early
voyages of discovery that at different times left our shores, and more particularly
those in which the two Cabots — father and son — were concerned. Whenever
124
LONDON.
armies were fitting out, their contingents formed a very considerable item in the
whole : thus, on the Spaniards threatening us with their armada, the City fur-
nished no less than 10,000 men and 38 ships. In ordinary times the Companies
could always furnish a respectable force for their own and the City's defence, and
had their armouries attached to their halls, though it was not till 1572 that they
had a regularly enrolled standing army. In that year they selected from
amongst their members 3000 of the '' most sizeable and active young men/' who
were immediately placed in training, and subsequently reviewed by Elizabeth
herself in Greenwich Park : a locality that reminds us of another feature of the
connexion between royalty and the Companies ; the attendance of picked bodies
of "handsome men, well and handsomely arrayed," to attend the Mayings in
Greenwich ; and of the chief officers, with the Livery on all great state processions,
as the entry of the sovereign into London, or of his bride, his coronation, or his
funeral.
From this glimpse into the economy of the metropolitan fraternities in their
prosperous days, let us for a moment turn our eyes backward to their origin
and rise. We have already in our preliminary remarks on Guildhall referred to
the custom of frankpledge, which it is supposed formed the germ of the guilds,
or, as we now call them, companies. When these guilds first assumed positive
shape and efficiency is unknown, but the weavers of London received a charter
so early as the reign of Henry IL, and that only confirmed liberties previously
enjoyed : this, say the Commissioners, is the oldest of the Companies. In the
[Arms of tlie Weavers Company.]
same reign, besides the licensed, there were no less than eighteen other London
guilds, but unlicensed, and which were fined by the King in consequence. The only
guild of which we know the exact origin is that referred to in the interesting-
story told by Stow in his account of Portsoken Ward, but which evidently was of
a somewhat irregular nature: — '' In the days of King Edgar, more than six
hundred years since, there were then thirteen knights or soldiers, well beloved
of the King and realm, for services by them done, who requested to have a cer-
tain portion of land on the east part of the city, being left desolate and forsaken
by the inhabitants, by reason of too much servitude : they besought the King to
have this land with the liberty of a guild for ever. The King granted to their
THE COMPANIES OF LONDON. 125
request, with conditions following : to wit, that each of them should victoriously
accomplish three combats, one above the ground, one under ground, and the
third in the water; and, after this, at a certain day, in East Smithfield, they
should run with spears against all comers; all Avhich was gloriously per-
formed ; and the same day the King named it Knighten Guild."* And, we may
add, the locality in question forms, either partially or entirely, the present ward
of Portsoken. Of these early guilds, perhaps the most striking feature is their
semi-religious character, of which we have given one illustration in the proces-
sion to church on the election day, and the praying for the dead on the following
Sunday ; — the designation of some of the Companies forms another : thus we have
the " Guild or fraternity of the Blessed Mary, the Virgin, of the Mystery of
Drapers," and the '^ Guild or fraternity of the body of Christ of the Skinners."
A chaplain was one of the regularly-constituted officers of all the larger Compa-
nies. Although licensed, the guilds generally were not incorporated till the
reign of Edward III., when that monarch, conscious of the growing strength and
prosperity of the country through the instrumentality of the trades fraternities,
raised them at once into the highest possible estimation and honour, by con-
firming— in many cases by letters patent — the privileges they had previously
enjoyed more by sufferance than of right — and in return for the payment of the
ferm — and then by enrolling himself as a member of one of them, the Merchant
Tailors. About the same time it was ordained that all artificers and people of
mysteries should each choose his own mystery before the next Candlemas, and
that, having so chosen it, he should thenceforth use no other. Edward also
transferred the right of electing members to Parliament from the ward representa-
tives to the Trade Companies, another important influence in raising them to their
subsequent power. The number of Companies sending members to the Com-
mon Council towards the close of his reign was Torty-eight. Among these the
Saddlers, the Weavers, and Tapestry-makers were next in importance, as send-
ing four members each, to the Grocers, Mercers, Drapers, Fishmongers, Gold-
smiths, and Vintners, who sent six, and with them the Barbers ranked. It
was not for a considerable time that the twelve great Companies assumed their
final position as regards the other fraternities ; and many violent and occasionally
bloody quarrels mark the history of the struggle for precedence. Their present
order will be seen in the note below.f where we have given the complete list of
* Stow's Survey, ed. 1633, p. 115.
f List of the Comjmnies of London in the order of their precedence ^ the first twelve forming the Great Livery
Companies, and those tohich are extinct being ^narked in Italics. — 1. Mercers. 2. Grocers. 3. Drapers.
4. Fishmongers. 5. Goldsmiths. 6.'' Skinners. 7. Merchant Tailors. 8. Haberdashers. 9. Salters.
10. Ironmongers. 11. Vintners. 12. Clothvvorkers. 13. Dyers. 14. Brewers. 15. Leathersellers. 16. Pewterers.
17. Barbers. 18. Cutlers. 19. Bakers. 20. Wax Chandlers. 21. Tallow Chandlers. 22. Armourers and
Braziers. 23. Grinders. 24. Butchers. 25. Saddlers. 26. Carpenters. 27. Cordwainers. 28. Painter-stain-
ers. 29. Curriers. 30. Masons. 31. Plumbers. 32. Innholders. 33. Founders. 34. Poulterers. 35. Cooks.
36. Coopers. 37. Bricklayers. 38. Buyers, 39. Fletchers. 40. Blacksmiths. 41. Joiners. 42. Weavers.
43. Woolmen. 44. Scriveners. 45. Fruiterers. 46. Plasterers. 47. Stationers. 48. Broderers. 49. Up-
holderers. 50. Musicians. 51, Turners. 52. Basket-makers. 53. Glaziers. 54. Horners. 55. Farriers.
56. Paviors. 57. Lorimers. 53. Apothecaries. 59. Shipwrights. 60. Spectacle-makers. 61. Clock-makers.
62. Glovers. 63. Comb-makers. 64. Felt-makers. 65, Frame-work Knitters. QQ. Silk-throwers. 67. Silk-
men. 68. Pin-makers. 69. Needle-makers. 70. Gardeners. 71. Soap-makers. 72. Tinplatc-workers.
73. Wheelwrights. 74. Distillers. 75. Ilat-band-makers. 76. Patten-makers. 77. Glass Sellers. 78. Tobacco
Pipe-makers. 79. Coach and Harness makers. 80. Gun-makers. 81. Wire Drawers. 82. Lotig Bowstring-
makers. 83. Playing-card-makers. 84. Fan-makers. 85. Woodmongers. 86. Starch-makers. 87. Fish-
ermen. 88. Parish Clerks. 89. Carmen.
126 LONDON.
the London Companies, including those which sprung up during the mania for
incorporation that prevailed in the latter part of the fifteenth and beginning of
the sixteenth centuries, or just when, through a variety of concurring causes,
but chiefly that the trade and commerce to be directed had become much too
miffhty a thing for the directors, the old faith in the necessity and value of the
Companies was disappearing, and with that their faith their own energies. And
thus when Charles II. sought to destroy their independence by frightening them
into a resignation of their charters, that he might re- grant them with such restric-
tions as he saw fit, having neither strength within nor without, they succumbed
at once, and almost licked the dust off the feet of the spoiler in so doing. That
to these causes rather than to the King's arbitrary proceedings we may attribute
the decline of the Companies is evident, from the circumstance that, although at
the Kevolution of 1688 these proceedings were finally reversed, the Companies,
with the exception of those which possessed large charities, or of those who
still from peculiar causes continued in close connexion with their respective
trades, steadily continued to decline from that time. Of the eighty-nine enume-
rated in the list, eight are practically extinct, and a ninth, the Parish
Clerks (the actors in the old miracle plays), has no connexion with the
municipality of London. The others are divided by the Commissioners into
three classes — 1. Companies still exercising an efficient control over their trade,
namely, the Goldsmiths and the Apothecaries. Both these also belong to class
2. Companies exercising the right of search, or marking wares, &c. ; in which
are included the Stationers' Company, at whose Hall all copyright books
must be " entered;" the Gunmakers, who prove all the guns made in the City;
the Founders, who test and mark weights ; the Saddlers, who examine the work-
manship of saddles ; and, in a lesser degree, the Painters, who issue a trade-price
list of some authority ; and the Pewterers and Plumbers, who make assays.
3. Companies, into which persons carrying on certain occupations in the City are
compelled to enter : such are the Apothecaries, Brewers, Pewterers, Builders,
Barbers, Bakers, Saddlers, Painter Stainers, Plumbers, Innholders, Founders,
Poulterers, Cooks, Weavers, Scriveners, Farriers, Spectacle Makers, Clock
Makers, Silk Throwers, Distillers, Tobacco Pipe Makers, and Carmen. This
last -mentioned fraternity is the only one that exclusively consists of persons
belonging to the trade, though the Stationers and the Apothecaries, with one or
two others, have a majority of such members. Admission into the body of free-
men is obtained by birth, apprenticeship, purchase, or gift ; and thence into the
livery, in most cases at the pleasure of the party, on payment of the fees, which
are generally light where the claim arises from patrimony or servitude, but other-
wise vary from a few pounds to as much as 200 guineas. The government of
most of the companies is now intrusted to Courts of Assistants, formed from the
senior members of the livery, and comprising Master, Senior and Junior War-
dens, and a certain number of assistants, who succeed in rotation to the higher
offices. Among the officers and classes who have disappeared from the Compa-
nies, or changed their designation, are the Pilgrim, the ancient head of the Mer-
chant Tailors, so called from his travelling for them ; the Master Bachelor and
Budge Bachelor of the Drapers ; the Bachelor in foins of the Skinners ; with
the Yeomanry of most of the companies, who seem to have been the old freemen.
Recurring to the words of the Commissioners, in which they describe the ex-
THE COMPANIES OF LONDON. 127
isting Companies as so many trusteeships for '' charitable purposes'* and '^ char-
tered festivals," it is worthy of observation that one of the earliest objects sought
by the guild, in some instances apparently their primary one, was the foundation
of a common stock, for the relief of poor or decayed members. Large funds were
established in course of time, and the charitable character thus attached to the
Company led to their being chosen as trustees for the care and management of
a variety of other charities founded by benevolent persons ; who, in the earlier
periods of metropolitan history, were so numerous, that Stow devotes some five-
and-twenty folio pages of his ' Survey' to the mere enumeration of their acts,
under the appropriate and characteristic title of the Honour of Citizens and
Worthiness'of Men : a noble chapter in the history of London. The variety of
these charities is as remarkable as their entire amount must be magnificent;
comprising as they do pensions to decayed members, almshouses^ innumerable
gifts of money to the poor, funds for the support of hospitals, schools, exhibitions
at the universities, prisoners in the city gaols, for lectures and sermons,,
donations to distressed clergymen, and so on through an interminable list.
The most interesting, perhaps also the most valuable, of the charities has yet
to be mentioned — the loans of different sums to young beginners in business, to
an amount, and for a time, amply sufficient to start them fairly in life with every
expectation of a prosperous career. Some idea of the magnitude of the Com-
panies' charities, on the whole, may be derived from two illustrations. The
Charity Commissioners stated that the Goldsmiths' Company's annual payments
to their poor alone amounted to about 2836/. ; and we learn from the Cor-
poration Commissioners that the Fishmongers, out of their princely income,
averaging above 18,000/. a-year, disburse in all between 9000/. and 10,000/.
in charities in England and Ireland ; in which last-nnentioned country this and
some of the other Companies have large estates.
As to the " chartered festivals," that form the other distinguishing feature of
the Companies in the present day, we have already noticed the election dinner ;
and have only to add, that, notwithstanding the magnificence of the feasts given
by some of the Companies, as, for instance, the Merchant Tailors, they are not
for a moment to be compared with their predecessors of the same locality.
There may be eminent men among the guests, but no king sitting down ^'^ openly
among them in a gown of crimson velvet of the fashion" as a member, which
Henry VI L once did : there may be speakers to please with their eloquence, and
statesmen to flatter with the expression of kindred political views, but no Ben
Jonson to prepare such an entertainment as that which greeted James I. ''with
great and pleasant variety of music, of voices, and instruments, and ingenious
speeches ;" no Dr. Bull, to make the occasion still more memorable by the first
production of such an air as 'God save the King.' The halls in which these
festivals take place present many features of interest, but none of them are of
very early date, the Great Fire having swept away most of those then in ex-
istence. The hall of the Barber Surgeons, described in a previous number,*
and that of the Leathersellers engraved in this, may be taken as interesting ex-
amples of those which escaped. Of the halls recently rebuilt, the Goldsmiths',
* No. LXII.
128
LONDON.
one of the most sumptuous specimens of domestic architecture in the metropolis,
has also been fully treated of.* The Fishmongers', with its fine statue of Wal-
worth on the staircase, its stained glass windows, its elegant drawing-room with
a splendid silver chandelier, and its grand banquetting hall, is built, deco-
rated, and furnished on a similarly splendid scale. Of the remainder we can
but briefly refer to Merchant Tailors' Hall, with its tabular lists of the kings,
princes, dukes, and other distinguished personages, who have been members,
making one wonder who is not included in it rather than who is; Drapers' Hall,
on the site of the building erected by Henry VHI.'s vicar-general, Cromwell,
with its public gardens, where was the house occupied by Stow's father, which
Cromwell so unceremoniously removed upon rollers when making the said
gardens out of his neighbours' land; Mercers' Hall, with its chapel, standing
where, several centuries ago, stood the house of Gilbert Becket, father of the
great archbishop, and husband of the fair Saracen who had followed him over
the seas; the Clockmakers', with their library and museum, richly illustrative
of the history of their trade ; and lastly, the Painter Stainers, who not only
claimed a supervision over the highest branches of art, but had their claims
admitted by the enrolment of such men as Verrio, Kneller, and Reynolds among
their members.
[Fishmongers' Hall, London Bridge.]
* No. LXXV,
[Covent Garden.]
CIX.— COVENT GARDEN.
The name of this well-known place is one of the many instances of popular
corruption, which, should the original be once forgot, from thenceforth become
both the trouble and the delight of bewildered but zealous antiquaries. We are,
however, as yet spared their theories as to the origin of Covent Garden, seeing
that we are told in many a bulky volume that there was on the spot, so early as
1222, a large garden belonging to the monks of Westminster Abbey, which was
therefore known as the Convent Garden. And it is curious to note how the
deities to whom the place was then dedicated have kept watch and ward over it
through all the changes that have been experienced here : the only difference
being that Flora, having grown more comprehensive and exotic, and, it must be
acknowledged, artificial in her tastes, has changed her simple plat into a con-
servatory ; and that Pomona, instead of having to superintend the supply of the
Abbey table, now caters for no inconsiderable portion of mighty London.
We have spoken of changes ; and perhaps no part of London forms a happier
text for such a theme, — no part that more strikingly illustrates the growth of
London in comparatively recent times. Let us look at Covent Garden in 1 560,
as it is exhibited to us in a large Map of the period,* or at the view of the
Strand given in a frontispiece to our first volume. It forms there an oblong
walled space, sprinkled over with trees and some three or four cottages, or, as
* Preserved in the collection of Sir Hans Sloane, and re-engraved in Maitland.
VOL. v.
K
130 LONDON.
Strype describes it, ''fields, with some thatched houses, stables, and such like,"
bounded by open meadows with footpaths on the north, by the enclosed and gay-
loolvino- parterres of Bedford House on the south, by the road from St. Giles's into
the Strand and to Temple Bar, with Drury House on the opposite side, em-
bosomed in green foliage on the east, and by St. Martin's Lane on the west, a
fine leafy avenue carrying the eye onwards into the country, towards the beau-
tiful hills of Hampstead and Highgate. That these features are correctly
delineated in the map is evident from other proofs : Anderson, for instance,
writin(»- about the middle of the last century, refers to his having met persons in
his youth who remembered the west side of St. Martin's Lane to have been a
quickset hedge. Towards the southern corner of the western side, St. Martin's
church formed a portion of the boundary line, with the Mews beyond it, " so
called of the King's falcons there kept by the King's falconer, which of old time
was an office of great account, as appeareth by a record of llichard II. in the
first year of his reign ; [when] Sir Simon Burley, Knight, was made constable
of the castles of Windsor, Wigmore, and Guilford, and of the manor of Ken-
nington, and also master of the King's falconry at the Mews near unto Charing
Cross." * The Bedford family, to whom we are indebted in a great measure for
the difference between the Covent Garden and precincts here described, and the
same localities of the present day, is the one referred to in Malcolm's remark,
'^ Strange, that a fifth of London should have been erected by this family within
two centuries !" |
But for the dissolution of the monasteries, all these as well as many other
important metropolitan changes could hardly have taken place : then it was that
the Convent Garden, with a field called Seven Acres, or more popularly, from ,
its shape. Long Acre, was granted by Edward VI. to Edward Duke of Somerset,
and again in 1552, after the attainder of that nobleman, to John Earl of Bedford,
who immediately built himself a house at the bottom of the present Southampton ■■
Street, in the Strand (so called from the illustrious wife of the Lord William
Russell, who was the daughter of the Earl of Southampton), and laid out the
parterres before mentioned. The house was, it appears, but " a mean wooden
building, shut up from the street by an ordinary brick wall ;" it was pulled
down in 1704. In the early part of the reign of Charles I., Francis, fourth Earl
of Bedford, looking with the eye of a man of business at the capacities of his
newly-acquired property, and with that of a statesman at the desirableness and
certainty of a continual increase of the progression which alarmed so many of his
brother senators, and of their monarch, began the magnificent improvements
which were to distinguish his name. How he appeased Charles I., or how he ven-
tured to act in opposition to him, it is difficult to say, but that the Earl's pro-
ceedings were in direct violation of the laws which Elizabeth, James, and
Charles had set down for the repression of fresh buildings in London is certain :
perhaps, after all, he quietly submitted to be fined, as we shall find was the case
with his successors, and then let the exaction — like such exactions generally — fall
on that portion of the public who rented the houses. To the general energy in
all departments of mental and social life exhibited in the reign of Elizabeth may
be attributed the increase in the metropolis which so startled the sagacious
" Stow's Survey, p. 493.
COVENT GARDEN
131
virgin queen, that she issued a proclamation in 1580, forbidding the erection of
any but houses of the highest class within three miles of the city. James was
not even satisfied with this precaution, but added (1617) a proclamation com-
manding all noblemen, knights, and gentlemen, who had mansions in the country,
to depart within twenty days, with their wives and families, during the summer
vacation. As to Charles, he, in the very year that the Earl commenced opera-
tions, strained the restrictive virtue of proclamations so far as to forbid the
entertainment of additional inmates in houses already existing, '' which would
multiply the inhabitants to such an excessive number that they could neither
be governed nor fed." This, we repeat, was the precise time the Earl of
Bedford began. His first step was to call to his assistance Inigo Jones^ who had
already commenced at Lincoln's Inn Fields the erection of that class of houses^
and in that disposition, which gave such novel features to London, and forms to
this day, in the different squares, one of its principal charms. The old buildings
of the locality having been removed, a large oblong space, 500 feet long by
400 broad, was laid out in the centre, around which w^ere to be stately build-
ings, with arcades after the Italian manner, for persons of rank and fashion, then
fast migrating westward from Aldersgate Street and the different parts of the
city. The north and a part of the east sides only were erected, however, by
Jones, or after his designs, and the latter was burnt down in the fire that injured
the church in 1795. The remainder of the space was laid out in streets, which
still bear in their names a reference to the period, as King Street, Charles Street,
and Henrietta Street, The impulse, thus given, spread ; noble mansions shot up
with surprising rapidity, inDruryLane, in Queen Street^ and generally through
the neighbourhood, where we may still trace Jones's handiwork, as in the building
in the street last mentioned, which is here shown. This fine artist, indeed, it seems
to us, ought to be looked upon as the true founder of the modern domestic archi-
tecture of the metropolis. It was not till after he had laid out Lincoln's Inn
Square and Covent Garden, and built the palatial mansions that adorned both, that
[House built by laigo Jones, in Groat Queen Street.
k2
132 LONDON. 3
Soho Square and Golden Square arose; to be followed still later by Hanover
and Cavendish Squares, and a host of others. Of the minor streets that sprung
up subsequent to and in consequence of the erection of the buildings of Covent
Garden, in the same century, we may mention Catherine Street, so designated
from the wife of Charles II. ; Duke Street and York Street from his brother ; also
Bloomsbury, and the streets of Seven Dials ; and, lastly, in the reigns of William
and Anne, the remaining unbuilt sides of Covent Garden. As to the fines for
such labours, which we before referred to, it appears that during the Protectorate,
in the year 1657, William, the fifth Earl, and his brothers John and Edward
Russell, were abated 7000/. from the amount of their fines for violating the pro-
clamation, in consideration of the great expense which the family had incurred
in the erection of the chapel, and the improvement of the neighbourhood.
As houses accumulated, the parish church of St. Martin became insufficient
for the accommodation of the parishioners ; so the Earl one day sent for his
architect, and '' told him," says Walpole, who had the anecdote from the Speaker
of the House of Commons, Onslow, ''that he wanted a chapel for the parishioners
of Covent Garden, but added, he would not go to any considerable expense ; ' in
short,' says he, 'I would not have it much better than a barn.' 'Well, then,'
replied Jones, ' you shall have the handsomest barn in England.' " This story,
so far from appearing to us as "somewhat questionable," as Mr. Brayley esteems
it, or to have arisen from a mere " expression of pleasantry on the part of the
Earl," as suggested by a writer in the ' Gentleman's Magazine,' is so exactly
illustrated by the building, that were there no truth in it, we should be half
inclined to agree with the opinion of him who said the most remarkable thing
about the structure is the reputation it enjoys, so exceedingly naked is it as
regards all decorative details, so destitute, in short, of any qualities that can
command admiration except the air of grandeur thrown over the whole by the
masterly combinations of form and the powerful lights and shadows which they
bring into play : the very quality, in short, that the anecdote shows us was
alone at the architect's disposal. Some time after the erection of the chapel, a
dispute occurred between the Earl and the vicar of St. Martin's as to the right
of patronage or appointment of curates to the former, in consequence of which
the Earl used all his influence to get the district formed into a separate parish,
and successfully ; in 1645 his wishes were finally accomplished, and the chapel
became the church of St. Paul— Covent Garden a parish. The cost of the former
was 4500/., a sum that contrasts very oddly with the charges for repairing the
structure only about fifty years later, namely, 11,000/.; but the Vandals who
had the management of the repair appear to have gone out of their way to
increase the expense by altering the portico — Inigo Jones's portico ; for we learn
from a newspaper of 1727 that "the right honourable the Earl of Burlington,
out of regard to the memory of the celebrated Inigo Jones, and to prevent our
countrymen being exposed for their ignorance, has very generously been at the
expense of 300/. or 400/. to restore the portico of Covent Garden Church, now
one of the finest in the world, to its primitive form : it is said it once cost the
inhabitants about twice as much to spoil it." * Would it were always so ; it is
impossible to desire a better argument for the conviction of such persons, and
■^ ' Weekly Journal,' April 23, 1727.
COVENT GARDEN. 133
where that fails nothing could succeed. In 1795 the fire took place which burnt
the arcade on the east side of the square, and did terrible damage to the church •
Malcolm says, not a particle of woodwork escaped (the wondrous architectural
roof of timber of course early disappeared) ; and describes the flames at their
height as making '' a grand scene, the portico and massy pillars projected before
a background of liquid fire." The church had been insured for 10,000/. but
the insurance having been allowed to expire about a twelvemonth before the
entire expense of the rebuilding fell on the inhabitants in the shape of an accu-
mulation of rent to the amount, it is said, of at least 25 per cent. The essential
parts of Inigo Jones's structure, that is, the portico, Avith the walls, resisted the
fire and were preserved. There were some interesting things in the building
thus destroyed, and which shared the same fate ; such as the monument by Gib-
bon of Sir P. Lely, who
*' on animated canvas stole
The sleepy eye that spoke the melting soul,"
and who was buried in the church; the painted-glass portraits of St. Paul, of
which Bagford speaks; and the picture of Charles I., by Lely, which shows how
the painter's zealous political views had got the better of his common sense^
not to say of his religious perceptions : the king was painted kneeling, with a
croum of thorns in his hand, his sceptre and coronet lying by. We do not find
it stated that this picture was burnt, but such was no doubt the case, as it is
not now in the church. Many of our readers may be aware that St. Paul's,
Covent Garden, derives some reputation from the eminent men who have been
buried within its walls or churchyard; but they will hardly be aware how very
rich it is in such associations. Beneath the vestry-room, where is a fine portrait
by Vandyke of the first Earl of Bedford, lie Wolcot, the scourge alike of Acade-
micians, and of the royalty who conferred on them the honours they so deliohted
in, and Johnstone, the best Irish gentleman of our stage. In other parts of the
church are the remains of Wycherley, the author of the ' Plain Dealer,' and the
worthy precursor of the Congreves, Vanbrughs, and Farquhars; Macklin, who^
as his inscription informs us, was
" the father of the modern stage,
Renowned alike for talent and for age,"
and Dr. Arne, the great English musician (without stone or memorial). In that
part of the churchyard which lies on the northern side of the walk, against the
back of the houses of King Street, and called King Street Plat, reposes the
author of ' Hudibras ;' and in another corner of the same plat, appropriately
designated the Theatrical corner, Michael Kelly, Edwin, King, and Estcourt,
the founder of the first Beef Steak Club, of which Mrs. Woffington was president,
and which is mentioned in the ' Spectator.' Two other names yet occur to the
memory in connexion with St. Paul's, Carr Earl of Somerset, and Sir Robert
Strange, the founder of the English school of engraving, and who enjoys the
peculiar honour of having had his portrait introduced into the picture of the
' Progress of Engraving,' in the Vatican — the only one of our countrymen so
distinguished.
Nor are the interesting recollections of the locality confined to the church. In
134 LONDON.
Rose Street, now Rose Alley, Covent Garden, was Dryden waylaid and beaten
by ruffians hired by the Earl of Rochester, in revenge for an attack upon him-
self in the ^ Essay on Satire/ a production attributed to Dryden, but really writ-
ten by Lord Mulgrave, afterwards Duke of Buckinghamshire. The poet was at
the time returnino- from his favourite haunt at the western corner of Bow Street,
the far-famed Will's Coffee House. Dryden was also concerned in another act
of violence in Covent Garden, and which ended fatally, but in which he was less
personally interested : we allude to the duel, so dramatically described by Pepys,
between "Sir H. Bellasses and Tom Porter/' and which, he justly observes, is
worth remembering^- as a '' kind of emblem of the general complexion of this
whole kingdom at present." He then continues, " They two dined yesterday at
Sir Robert Carr's, where, it seems, people do drink high, all that come. It
happened that these two, the greatest friends in the world, w^ere talking to-
gether, and Sir H. Bellasses talked a little louder than ordinary to Tom Porter,
giving of him some advice. Some of the company standing by said, 'What, are
they quarrelling, that they talk so high V Sir H. Bellasses, hearing it, said,
* No,' says he, ' I would have you know I never quarrel but I strike ; and take
that as a rule of mine !' ^ How,' says Tom Porter, ' strike ? I would I could sec
the man in England that durst give me a blow.' With that Sir H. Bellasses
did give him a box of the ear; and so they were going to fight there, but were
hindered. And by-and-by Tom Porter went out, and, meeting Dryden the poet,
told him of the business, and that he was resolved to fight Sir PI. Bellasses pre-
sently ; for he knew that, if he did not, they should be friends to-morrow, and
then the blow would rest upon him, which he would prevent ; and desired
Dryden to let him have his boy to bring him notice which way Sir H. Bellasses
goes. By-and-by he is informed that Sir H. Bellasses' coach was coming : so
Tom Porter went down out of the coffee-house, where he stayed for the tidings,
and stopped the coach, and bade Sir H. Bellasses come out. ^ Why/ says
H. Bellasses, ' you will not hurt me coming out, will you ? ' ' No,' says Tom
Porter. So, out he went, and both drew ; and 11. Bellasses having drawn, and
flung away his scabbard, Tom Porter asked him whether he was ready. The
other answering him he was, they fell to fight, some of their acquaintance by.
They wounded one another, and Bellasses so much, that it is feared he will die :
and, finding himself severely wounded, he called to Tom Porter, and kissed him,
and bade him shift for himself; for, says he, ' Tom, thou hast hurt me, but I
will make shift to stand upon my legs till thou mayst withdraw, and the world
will not take notice of you, for I would not have thee troubled for what thou
hast done.' And so, whether he did fly or not I cannot tell ; but Tom Porter
showed H. Bellasses that he was wounded too : and they are both ill, but H.
Bellasses to fear of life." * Bellasses died ten days afterwards.
In Covent Garden, again, was PowelTs Theatre, where Punch, soaring above
the mere antics that regale the eyes of his street worshippers, marshalled a
goodly company of puppet actors, and laid under contribution the mightiest sub-
jects in the history of man for dramas, that might worthily exhibit their powers.
Here is one of Powell's advertisements :—*' At Punch's Theatre, in the Little
Piazza, this present Friday being the 2nd, and to-morrow, the 3rd of May, will
* Pepys's Diary.
COVENT GARDEN. 135
be presented an opera, called the ' State of Innocence, or the Fall of Man.'
With variety of scenes and machines, particularly the scene of Paradise in its
primitive state, with birds^ beasts, and all its ancient inhabitants, the subtlety of
the serpent in betraying Adam and Eve, &c., with variety of diverting inter-
ludes, too many to be inserted here. No person to be admitted in masks or
riding- hoods [commonly used at the other theatres for the purposes of licentious
intrigue], nor any money to be returned after the curtain is up. Boxes 2s. ;
pit Is. Beginning exactly at seven o'clock." It must not be supposed, how-
ever, that Punch thought there should be no more cakes and ale because his
master was virtuous, or that fun was to be debarred merely because the theme
might be somewhat serious : so, whether Adam and Eve were wandering hand-
in-hand about Eden, or Noah and his daughters shut up in the ark. Punch, in
his own proper character, was not long missing. Powell had constantly audi-
ences of the most fashionable description. Lastly, in and around Covent Garden,
Me Beefsteak Club — not the oldest one, but by far the greatest — held its sittino-s,
from its first formation in the dressing-room of the manager and pantomimist
Rich, a man of whom Garrick says, —
" He gave the power of speech to every limb,"
and who carried the pantomimic art to great perfection in his theatre at Lin-
coln's Inn, and subsequently at Covent Garden when he became its manager.
To ensure the effect of his scenes, and the working of his ingenious mechanism
he painted the one, and put in motion the other, in small pasteboard models,
with his own hands. Whilst thus engaged, his room was the continual resort of
men of rank and intellectual eminence, who admired the skill of the artist, and
still more the conversation of the man. Hogarth, his father-in-law Sir James
Thornhill, and Lord Peterborough, were among this class. The latter having
been detained accidentally on one occasion, through the non- arrival of his car-
riage, was so delighted with the converse that passed as to overlook the lapse of
time, and the necessity that his entertainer — a man of regular habits — should
get his dinner. Rich, however, did not forget or postpone it, but at two o'clock
commenced preparations by clearing his fire, placing a gridiron with a steak on
it, and spreading his cloth. When ready. Rich invited his lordship to join him,
who did so, and enjoyed his repast so much that further supplies, with wine,
were sent for ; and thus was the evening spent. On leaving. Lord Peterborough
proposed a renev/al of the feast on the Saturday following, when three or four
friends came with him, and the club was finally determined upon, with *' Beef
and Liberty " for its motto, and beefsteaks, port wine, and punch for its regular
fare. This took place in 1735, and from that to the present time there are few
persons of very high personal, political, or intellectual distinction who have not
been among its members. In the notices of the proceedings of different periods the
most prominent names are Bubb Doddington, Aaron Hill, Hoadley, the author
of the ' Suspicious Husband,' Glover the poet. Lord Sandwich, Wilkes, Bonnel
Thornton, Arthur Murphy, Churchill, Tickell, the Prince of Wales afterwards
George IV., the late Duke of Norfolk, the late Charles Morris, &c. &c. Here,
indeed, were met the fellows of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy, with their
gibes, their gambols, their songs, their flashes of merriment that were wont to
136 LONDON.
set tlie table in a roar. Pre-eminent among them was the poet Churchill, whose
wit in many a dazzling attack or repartee still lives in the memory of the mem-
bers. The '' Liberty," added to the Beef, had probably attracted a descendant
of King Charles's stern judge, Bradshaw, to the society, who was always boasting
of the connexion. Pursuing one day his usual theme, Churchill remarked, ''Ah,
Bradshaw, don't crow ! The Stuarts have been amply avenged for the loss of
Charles's head, for you have not had a head in your whole family ever since."
The society, after numerous migrations, as from Covent Garden Theatre to the
Bedford Hotel in the square, and from the Bedford to the Lyceum, is now per-
manently settled in a room attached to the latter, where Rich's original gridiron
'' now presents itself, encircled Avith its motto, and suspended from the ceiling to
every eye which can spare a wandering glance from the beefsteak smoking be-
fore it."* We conclude these historical notices of Covent Garden with a brief
reference to its aspect in the beginning of the last century, when the square was
enclosed with rails, and ornamented by a stone pillar on a pedestal, with a
curious four-square sun-dial ; when the south side lay open to Bedford Garden
with " its small grotto of trees most pleasant in the summer season," and in
which part alone was then kept the market for fruit, roots, and flowers. On
the erection of Southampton and Tavistock Streets, with Southampton Passage,
on the site of Bedford House and its parterres, the market was removed farther
into the square, to the grea^t annoyance, it seems, of the "persons of distinction"
who then resided in it, and who gradually left their houses in consequence. Mait-
land, referring to this point, in describing the " things remarkable " of Covent
Garden, calls the latter *'a magnificent square," and then adds, "wherein {to its
great disgrace) is kept a herb and fruit-market." If the sage topographer could
see the latter now, we wonder whether its increased magnitude would make it
seem in his eyes a still more disgraceful affair, or whether that very magnitude,
as in a thousand analogous instances, Avould stamp it as respectable. The con-
trast is certainly curious between the opinions of the market held by a historian
of London only a century or so ago, and the state and reputation of that
market now.
The supremacy of Covent Garden as the great wholesale market for vege-
tables, fruit, and flowers is now undisputed. So early indeed as 1654 proposals
were made for establishing a herb-market in Clement's Inn Fields ; but, though
the population had been fast increasing in that direction of the town during the
whole of the century, the Stocks Market and the Honey Lane Market, in the
City, were still flourishing, and the interests connected with them too powerful
to admit of a rival. With a single bridge over the Thames, leading into the
very heart of the City, these ancient markets were most convenient to the
market-people, whether their supplies were brought by land-carriage or by the
river. A century later the Stocks Market was removed, and Spitalfields and
Covent Garden had become markets of great importance. The origin of Covent
Garden Market is said to have been casual — people coming and standing in the
centre of the square with produce for sale gradually led to the establishment
of a regular market. This took place before either Westminster or Blackfriars
bridges were erected. A paper, published about the middle of the century,
* Clubs of London, vol. ii. p. IL
COVENT GARDEN. 137
entitled, ' Reasons for fixing an Plerb-Market at Dowgate/ appears to have been
the last attempt to preserve a great vegetable market in the City. It is stated
in this paper, that since the removal of Stocks Market the farmers and gar-
deners had laboured under very great inconvenience, as they were obliged to
take their produce to Spitalfields and Covent Garden, which markets, it is
observed, were daily increasing. The establishment of a market at Dowgate
would, it was argued, have the effect of bringing back into the City all those
who went from Stocks Market to Spitalfields ; and, as a large proportion of the
supply of vegetables and fruit was either landed at the bridge-foot, or brought
over it from Kent and Surrey, the proposition seemed reasonable enough.
While Dowgate was only three hundred and sixty-six yards from the bridge,
Spitalfields was eighteen hundred yards, and Covent Garden three thousand one
hundred and ten. The building of Westminster Bridge, and the continually
increasing population, particularly in the western and northern suburbs, settled
this question. Honey Lane Market, close to Cheapside, and the Fleet Market
remained the only places within the City which were supplied by the producers.
The Honey Lane Market is now entirely abolished^ and its site occupied by the
City of London School. In 1824 an Act was passed authorizing the corporation
of the City to remove the Fleet Market, and to provide a new one in its place,
now called Farringdon Market, on a site adjoining the western side of the old
market. In 1830 a company was incorporated for re-establishing Hungerford
Market, which is partly a vegetable market. In the same year an Act was
passed for establishing Portman Market, in the parish of Mary-le-bone. Fins-
bury Market is another of the modern vegetable markets of London. We, how-
ever, need only notice those markets where the growers and the retail dealers
meet to transact their business; and these are Covent Garden; the Borough
Market, near the ancient church of St. Saviour's, Southwark ; Spitalfields, chiefly
a potato-market; Farringdon Market; and perhaps Hungerford Market.
Few places could be more disgraceful to a great city than the incommodious
state and mean appearance of Covent Garden Market about thirteen years ago,
when it was partially covered with open sheds and wooden structures, running
from east to west. What it was seventy years ago we know from Hogarth's
print ; and the late Mr. Walker, a metropolitan police magistrate, referred to it
just previous to its alteration, as an instance of the pernicious effect of neglect
and filth on public taste and morality in a spot where large numbers of people
daily congregate. " The evil here," he says, ''^ lies in the bad contrivance and
arrangement of their places of public concernment. It is surely a great error to
spend nearly a million of money on a penitentiary, whilst the hotbeds of vice
from which it is filled are wholly unattended to. What must necessarily be the
moral state of the numerous class constantly exposed to the changes of the wea-
ther, amidst the mud and putridities of Covent Garden ? What ought it to be,
where the occupation is amongst vegetables, fruits, and flowers, if there were
well-regulated accommodations ?" Fortunately the kind of deteriorating causes
here spoken of have been now removed. In 1827 the Duke of Bedford obtained
an Act for rebuilding the market, and the irregular combination of sheds and
standings began to be removed in 1828, and in due time the present buildings
Were completed. The new pile consists of a colonnade on the exterior, running
]38 LONDON.
round the north, east, and south sides, under which are the shops, each with a
sleeyjino'-room above. Joined to the back of these is another row of shops, facing
the inner courts, and through the centre runs an arched passage, sixteen feet
wide and open to the top, with shops on each side. This passage is the favourite
promenade of those who visit the market after the rougher business of the morn-
iuo- is over. Forced fruits and culinary vegetables, and rare flowers constitute the
great attraction. The effect of the seasons is set at nought. In January forced
rhubarb is exhibited, and French beans at 3s. a hundred, hot-house grapes at
25s. a lb. ; in February, cucumbers at 2s. 6d. to 4.9. each ; and strawberries Is.
an ounce ; in March, new potatoes at 2s. and 2s. 6d. a lb. ; in April, peaches and
nectarines at 2s. each, and cherries at 25.?. a lb., or perhaps 30s. ; at the end of
the month peas at 9s. per dozen ; early in May, green gooseberries at 7s. or Ss.
per half-sieve of 3 J gallons ; and all the greatest results of artificial horticulture
in every month of the year. In January, bouquets of geraniums, chrysan-
themums, euphorbia, and other flowers, may be had at 2s. 6d. to 5s. each ; bunches
of violets at 6d. each ; sprigs of sweet-briar, also the Persian lilac, mignonette,
&c. Very extensive cellarage for storing bulky articles is excavated under
nearly the whole area of the market. There are cellars with conveniences for
washing potatoes. Great attention has been paid to the forming of capacious
sewers, and every precaution taken to ensure the most perfect cleanliness. Water
is furnished by an Artesian well, two hundred and eighty feet deep, which sup-
plies sixteen hundred gallons an hour, and the whole market can be inundated
and washed in a few minutes. Over the eastern colonnade, the principal
entrance, there are two light and elegant conservatories, rented by two eminent
nurser^anen, for the sale of the more scarce and delicate species of plants and
flowers. They are fifteen feet broad and fifteen feet high, and occupy a third of
the terrace, the remaining part forming a promenade, and being also used for
the display of the more hardy plants. A handsome fountain throws up a re-
freshing shower, and adds very much to the beauty of the conservatories. The
view from the terrace into the principal passage below^, and towards the eastern
side of the market, is animated, if not picturesque. We shall return to Covent
Garden after a brief description of two other of the metropolitan vegetable
markets.
First in extent, so far as the building is concerned, is Farringdon Market. It
occupies the sloping surface on which Holborn Hill and Fleet Street stand, and
is, in fact, the ancient bank of the river Fleet. This inclination of the surface is
remarkably favourable to the drainage, and the market is not only well supplied
with water, but is well lighted when the market is open. The area occupies
about one acre and a half, in the form of a parallelogram, surrounded on two
sides by buildings 41 feet high and 48 broad, and measuring along the middle
about 4S0 feet long. On the above sides are the shops of the butchers and
poulterers. The third side consists of a spacious covered space, 232 feet long,
48 feet broad, and 41 feet high, for the fruiterers and dealers in vegetables, and
it opens on the central area by an arcade at several points. The south side is
open to the street, but separated from it by a long iron palisading, in which
there are two entrances for waggons. The number of shops is seventy-nine.
Altogether the quadrangular area with the buildings covers 3900 square yards,
COVENT GARDEN. 139
being 232 feet by 150 feet. Two of the largest provincial markets are St. John's
Market, at Liverpool, 183 feet by 45; and one at Birmingham, 120 feet by
36. The cost of building Farringdon Market was 30,0001., but the purchase of
the site, the buildings which stood upon it, and the rights of the occupiers, cost
the city about 2OO3OOO/. Hungcrford Market was erected by the architect of
Covent Garden Market, but it is not confined to the sale of articles of food only.
The Borough Market is of tolerable size, but altogether destitute of architec-
tural pretensions ; and, if possible, Spitalfields and the other markets are still
less distinguished in this way.
The supply of a population amounting to nearly two millions with articles of
such general and necessary consumption in every family as culinary vegetables
and fruit, involves of course a very extensive and comprehensive system of co-
operation, and in this and every other department connected with the provision
of food to the inhabitants of London there is that perfect working to each other's
hands amongst the several branches of those immediately or remotely employed
by which alone the final result is so successfully accomplished. In vegetable food
and fruit the demand cannot at all times keep pace with the immense supply which
is poured in by steam-boats, sailing-boats, and boats conducted by a pair of oars^
by the railways, and by land-carriage, from the metropolitan counties, from
every part of England and parts of Scotland, and from the continent. It is
nearly half a century since Middleton, in his ' Agricultural Survey of Middlesex,'
estimated the value of the vegetables annually consumed in London at 645,000/.,
and of fruit at 400,000/., making together a sum exceeding one million sterling
(1,045,000/.), and this exclusive of the profits of any other class besides the
growers. The total amount paid by the consumer would of course very much
augment the above large sum. Middleton gives an instance in which the market-
gardener received 45/. per acre for turnips, while the consumer was paying at
the rate of 150/., the former selling bunches at three halfpence each, which
were sold in the retailer's shop at fivepence. This of course was not the general
course of the trade, for though the retail dealer has, generally speaking, to pay
a heavy rent, and is subject to other great expenses and bad debts, the difference
of the wholesale and retail price was in this case disproportionate. There are
perhaps more cases of garden-farmers or market-gardeners making handsome
fortunes by production than am^ongst the class who sell the same articles by retail.
Middleton speaks of a person who grew at Sutton eighty acres of asparagus, and
the cost of forming the beds was estimated at 100/. per acre. Another grower
had sixty acres of his own land under this crop. The market-gardeners, he
says, on five acres of the best land, or nine acres of a secondary quality, or on
twenty acres of inferior land, at that time provided as well for their families as
an ordinary farmer on one hundred and fifty or two hundred acres. He
calculated that, for the supply of London with vegetables, there were 2000
acres cultivated by the spade, and 8000 partly by the spade but chiefly by
the plough : the gross annual produce varied from 200/. to 50/. an acre.
There were besides the fruit gardeners, who, in 1795, had three thousand acres
under cultivation in Middlesex alone, the '' upper crop " consisting of apples,
pears, cherries, plums, walnuts, &c., and the '' under crop " of gooseberries,
raspberries, currants, strawberries, and other bearing trees which would grow
140 LONDON.
well under the shade of the larger ones. Peaches, nectarines, and similar fruits
were trained against the walls. In the height of the season Middleton supposed
that each acre of these gardens gave employment to thirty-five persons, amongst
whom were many women, chiefly from Wales, part of whose time was employed
in carrying baskets of fruit to town on their heads. The vegetable gardeners
also gave employment to great numbers of persons in the busiest season. The
gathering of a crop of peas required forty persons for every ten acres, the
'' podders " being paid at the rate of fourpence a bushel in 1795. After peas
succeeded turnips, and these as well as carrots are washed and tied in bunches
before being sent to market. The cutting and packing of waggon loads of cab-
bao-es or whatever other vegetables may be in season cannot be done without the
services of a number of persons besides the labourers actually engaged in their
cultivation. Since Middleton's work was published the population of the metro-
polis has just doubled, and it probably will not be far wrong to double his
estimates : the mode of cultivation and of preparing the produce for market
remains much in the same state as it was fifty years ago. Two centuries ago,
Samuel Hartlib, author of several works on agriculture, writing in 1650, states
that some old men recollected '' the first gardener who came into Surrey to plant
cabbages, cauliflowers, and to sow turnips, carrots^ and parsnips^ to sow early-
ripe peas, all which at that time were great wonders, we having few or none in
England but what came from Holland and Flanders." Twenty years before^
he tells us, that so near London as Gravesend, " there was not so much as a mess
of peas but what came from London." In our day we have pea salesmen in
London, and in a single day one grower will send to one firm about four hun-
dred sacks of twelve and sixteen pecks each, besides from three to five hundred
sieves (of seven gallons each) of those of a superior kind; and the same grower
will in the same way send seven or eight waggon loads of cabbages, each load
averaging one hundred and fifty dozen cabbages; at another season, from the
same farm, fourteen or fifteen hundred baskets of '' sprouts '' will be sent in
one day, and in the course of the year from five to six thousand tons of potatoes.
If we look at the immense quantity and variety of vegetables and fruits which
are sent to London in the present day, it is easier to perceive the great change
which has taken place in the diet of the people than to imagine how they
could do without that varied supply of vegetable food which is now considered
indispensable.
The market-days at Covent Garden are Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday,
the last being by far the most important. There is no particular hour for com-
mencing business, but it varies at different seasons, and by daybreak there are
always a few retail dealers present. Waggons and carts have been arriving for
some time before, and porters are busied in transferring their contents to the
different stations of the salesmen while the dawn is yet grey. The houses of
refreshment around the market are open at half-past one in summer; and little
tables are set out against the pillars of the piazzas by the venders of tea and
coffee. Here the porters and carters can obtain refreshment without needing to
resort to exciting liquors ; and few greater benefits have been conferred on the
laborious classes whose occupation is in the public markets than that of sub-
stituting tea and coffee for ardent spirits. There is some separation of the
COVENT GARDEN.
141
different classes of articles, and potatoes and coarser produce are assigned a
distinct quarter. Vegetables and fruit are tolerably well separated, and flowers
and plants are found together. The west side of the square is covered with
potted flowers and plants in bloom, and a gay, beautiful, and fragrant display
they make. The supply of ''cut" flowers for bouquets, or, to use the old-
fashioned word, nosegays, is very large, including ''walls," daffodils, roses, pinks,
carnations, &c., according to the season. The carts and waggons with vegetables
are drawn up close together on three sides of the market. A waggon-load of
fine fresh cabbages, of clean-washed turnips, carrots, or cauliflowers, or an area
of twenty square yards covered with the latter beautiful vegetable, or either of
the others piled in neat stacks, is a pleasing sight. Here are onions from the
Bedfordshire sands or Deptford, cabbages from Battersea, asparagus from Mort-
lake and Deptford, celery from Chelsea, peas from Charlton, these spots being
each famous for the production of these particular articles, though the supply
may be larger from other places. By and by the greengrocers come jogging in ;
and the five spacious streets leading to the market in time become crowded with
a double row of their vehicles. The costermongers and venders of water-cresses,
and itinerant dealers who have taken up the trade as a temporary resource,
arrive with their donkey-carts, trucks, or baskets. The Irish basket-women, who
[Covent Garden Basket Women.]
ply as porteresses, and will carry your purchase to any part of the tow^n, jabber
in Erse, and a subdued clamouring sound tells you that the business of the day
has really begun. As fast as the retail dealer makes his bargains a porter
carries the articles to his market- cart, pushing through the crowd with the load
on his head as well as he can. The baskets of '' spring onions " and young
radishes are thronged by the itinerant dealers trying to drive hard bargains.
It is interesting to watch for a short time the business of the flower-market.
142 LONDON.
This is the Londoners' flower-garden, and is resorted to in the early summer
morning by many a lover of flowers compelled by his occupation to live in the
densely-crowded parts of London, and who steals a few moments from the busy
day to <''ratify one of the purest tastes. This out-of-door floral exhibition has
undergone an extraordinary improvement within the last few years, and it is
really an attractive show. It keeps alive a taste which in many instances would
otherwise languish; audit is not a little ''refreshing" to see the humble me-
chanic making a purchase of a root of ''hen and chicken daisies," a "black"
wall-flower, or a primrose, to ornament the v/indow of his workshop. Some who
love flowers better than they understand how to treat them, while making their
purchase, gather instructions for keeping them fresh and healthy. The " pot "
plants are bought in ones and twos by private persons; but the itinerant dealer
fills his basket or donkey-cart, and will be met with in his perambulations
during the day in most parts of London in spring and summer. The most com-
mon plants are pelagorniums, fuchsias, verbenas, heliotropes, amaranthus,
cockscombs, calceolarias, roses, myrtles, and other greenhouse plants. The cut
flowers are purchased for the decoration of public rooms, and by persons who
love the exquisite beauty of flowers, and by itinerant dealers^ chiefly females,
who make them up into small bouquets and vend them in the streets. The
sm^rt clerk purchases them for a posy, and to stick a fine pelagornium in the
button hole is not a practice to be despised, albeit a glass phial filled with water
on a corner of his desk would perhaps be as good a destination. The sweet-briar
which the flower-girl offers for sale in the crowded street gives out a fra-
grance which is most delicious, as its odours are momentarily inhaled by the
hasty passenger proceeding to scenes so different from those which it recalls.
The costermongers,* who may be seen in all the great wholesale markets of
London, Smithfield excepted, unless they may go there to speculate in horse-
flesh for the boiler, or to buy a donkey, are a very singular race, and in their
sharp commercial habits come nearer to the Jews than any other class. From their
appearance any one would infer that their purchases would be confined to a few
bunches of water-cresses, but they often buy considerable quantities of the best
description of articles; and though, still judging from appearances, it would
seem to display a very reckless degree of confidence in each other, they not un-
frequently club their money and buy up an advantageous lot on favourable
terms, though it is not easy to perceive by what arrangement they can divide
the bargain amongst each other without serious disputes. The narrow and
dirty streets which they inhabit may often be seen gay with a rich display of
potted flowers and plants which they are about to carry through the town for
sale ; and at other times an unwonted aspect of purity is given to the vicinity by
a profuse supply of the finest cauliflowers. The costermongers may be divided
into several ranks, the lowest being scarcely worthy of the name, as he only
purchases in small quantities which he can carry off" in his basket. A con-
siderable degree above him is he who carries his commodities from street to
street on a truck with a capacious board on the top, shelved at the edges; but
It must be stated that the truck is only a hired one, either for the day or the
* See No. VIII. ' Street Noises; vol. i. p. 134.
COVENT GARDEN. 143
week ; the costcrmonger who owns a donkey, and a rough cart which seems to
have been rudely made by his own hands, is indeed worthy of his name and
character, and he may save money if he is not too fond of low sports; but a
prince among the tribe is he who has not only cash for any chance speculation
which may turn up, but possesses accumulated capital in the shape of trucks
which he lets out at a fixed rent to his less fortunate or less steady brethren.
One man of this class, who lives near the ' Elephant and Castle,' has forty of
these trucks. They cost from 21. to 21. \0s. when new : he is not so extravagant
as to buy them fresh from the maker, but picks them up when misfortune
obliges one of the fraternity to descend to a humbler rank in the profession.
The charge for letting them out is Ad. a-day, or 26-. a-week, but without the
board at the top od. and \s.Q)d.', and in winter the price for each sort is only
1^. 6(i. Sometimes one of these wealthy truck-men will buy up on A^ery advan-
tageous terms large quantities of such articles as are in season, and he can sell
again to the drawers of his trucks cheaper than they can buy in small quantities
in the market. He knows better than to employ the buyers as his servants, but
is content with a small profit and no risk, and as he gets so handsome an income
from his trucks he ought to be content. A boy of the lowest class commencing
his career in Covent Garden Market, if he be prudent, sharp, and intelligent,
and is fortunately exempt from the vices of his companions, has a better and
surer prospect of making a fortune, if he pursues a right course^ than most of
the 3"ouths of the middle class.
The Borough Market is well supplied with vegetable produce, but there is no
catering here for a wealthy class of consumers : the market is held three times
a-week. Hungerford can scarcely be regarded a wholesale market, the dealers
who have shops here being chiefly supplied from Covent Garden. Farringdon
Market has not realized the expectations which vv^ere entertained of its im-
portance, but produce is brought to it by the growers on two days in the week,
and it is a good deal resorted to by the itinerant venders, those especially who
sell hot baked potatoes and the criers of water- cress. Spitalfields is the largest
potato market in the metropolis, as, besides being convenient to the growers
in Essex, whence the chief supply by land-carriage is obtained, it is in the
midst of a dense population of the poorer class. It is difficult to obtain an esti-
mate worthy of much confidence relative to the consumption of potatoes in
London, but it is really enormous, and of late years has increased in a greater
ratio than the increase of population would warrant. The most extensive
potato-salesmen arc established in Tooley Street, where they have warehouses
adjacent to the river. There are some retail dealers who dispose of thirty
tons of potatoes per week, in quantities of a few pounds weight at a time, all
weighed in the scale ; but ten tons is considered as a very good amount of
business in this article, and sales of this extent only occur in particular
quarters of the town where the means of the population do not rise much above
poverty. One wholesale dealer in Spitalfields Market can store up a thousand
tons or 14,000 sacks on his premises. The Irish Railway Commissioners esti-
mated the quantity of food consumed by an adult living wholly upon vegetable
food at eleven lbs. per day, inclusive of waste, which is very great ; the quantity
144 LONDON.
consumed by the next class, who enjoy a limited use of other kinds of food, they
ascertained to be two lbs. ; and those who were unrestricted as to the nature of
their food consumed one lb. of vegetable food. Now, taking the population of
London requiring a supply of potatoes from the market at 1,500,000, and allow-
injj the consuming powers of a population of 1000 adults and children to be
equal to that of 655 adults, we have in the metropolis the full consuming power
of 982,250 persons. As so many other vegetables are used besides potatoes,
would it be very far wrong to estimate the consumption at one lb. for each adult
per day, that is, 3070 tons per week, or say 3000 tons, and 156,000 tons per year?
Even if some reduction were made on this estimate, the quantity would still be
very ffreat. Not more than one-half of this supply is obtained from the metro-
politan counties, chiefly Essex and Kent. .When prices range high, the inland
supplies are brought thirty miles or mofe, a great distance for so bulky an
article. The quantity conveyed by the railways is very trifling, and steam-boats
only occasionally bring ten or fifteen tons when other freight is not to be ob-
tained. There remains, then, probably from seventy to eighty thousand tons for
the supply by water, the larger proportion of which comes from land on the
banks of the Humber, Trent, and Ouse, which is fertilized by artificial flooding
and the deposit of a rich silt. Scotland ranks the next, afterwards Jersey, and
lastly Devonshire. Scarcely any potatoes reach London from Ireland, as they
have hitherto been more profitably consumed in the production of bacon and
pork ; and the small quantity of foreign which have arrived since the alteration
of the tariff has not proved good enough for the London market. In the busy
season of the year there is always a considerable number of vessels laden with
potatoes lying off the wharfs adjacent to Tooley Street ; those from Yorkshire
being of 50 to 120 tons ; the Scotch vessels from 80 to 150 tons ; and those from
Jersey are sometimes as large as 300 tons. At the same time the yards which
communicate with the wharfs are crowded with the waggons and carts belonging
to the retail dealers waiting for a supply. For about three months in the
year this water-side trade is suspended, but it revives again in the month of
October.
[The Admiralty.l
ex.— THE ADMIRALTY AND THE TRINITY HOUSE.
The Admiralty, which forms the left flank of the detachment of Government
offices drawn up in line opposite the Banqueting House at Whitehall, cannot
stand a very critical examination on its architectural merits. Well ; it is not the
only plain and homely body in which a mighty spirit has been lodged. These
three huge sides of a square, without even an attempt at ornament — excepting
the posts, which the polite call pillars, at the grand central entry — which resemble
nothing on earth so much as an overgrown farmstead, which have had that
architectural screen, almost as tasteless as themselves, drawn before them like a
Mokanna's veil, from a dim sense that not even stone walls could hear with
patience the remarks that must necessarily be made upon them if fully exposed
to view — are the unlikely form in which is lodged the mind that wields the naval
power of Britain.
There sit the Commissioners of the Admiralty, the Board which, except for two
years, separated from each other by the lapse of more than a century,* have been
invested with the government of the navy of England since the Revolution. The
First Lord of the Admiralty (who is a member of the Cabinet) and his four
junior Lords hold their deliberations there. They prepare the navy estimates,
* Prince George of Denmark was Lord High Admiralffi 1707-8 ; the late King, when Duke of Clarence, in
1827-8 ; with these exceptions the office has been in commission since 1688.
VOL. V. L
146
LONDON.
and lay them before Parliament ; issue orders for the payment of naval moneys ;
make or approve all appointments or promotions in the navy ; recommend all
grants of honours, pensions, or gratuities for services performed in their depart-
ment; order ships to be commissioned, employed, and paid off, built, sold, or
broken up. There is a ceaseless ebb and flow of business surging about that
homely building. Reports, inquiries, and petitions are flowing in like a spring
tide incessantly from the remotest regions of the earth, and orders and instruc
tions are flowino* out as continuously to regulate operations that fill as wide a
sphere.
If we take up our station on the esplanade in St. James's Park, the eye is
cauo-ht by a huo-e upright beam erected on the roof of the Admiralty, with
straio-ht arms extending from it laterally at different angles. At times these may
be seen alterino- their positions, remaining a few moments at rest, and then
changing again. The giant upon whom the stranger gazes with uncomprehend-
ino- curiosity is whispering to his huge brother on Putney Pleath, who will
repeat the intelligence to his neighbour behind Richmond, and he to the next in
order, so that by their unconscious agency the heads of the navy in London give
and receive intelligence to and from the great naval stations hundreds of miles
off as quickly as they can communicate with a storehouse at the other end of the
metropolis. The semaphore is, as any man may see, but a block of wood, and,
heaven knows, no beauty, yet, in the hands of man, it becomes instinct with won-
drous power. Like all the other mechanical inventions of the age, it indicates
at once the power of intellect and its limit. By the instrumentality of machinery
man adds to the puny strength of his body, and ekes out his dwarfish stature.
By the steam-engine he rows a mighty ship as if it were a Thames scull-boat,
or hammers at once masses of iron too colossal for a troop of Cyclopses. And
by the telegraph he renders himself as it were present in the same moment at
distant places. But he cannot inspire his instruments with intelligence ; only
Avhile his hand is upon them can they *' do his spiriting gently " or otherwise:
left to themselves they relapse into the inertness of mere matter. Nor can he
clothe them with the flexible grace of movement, with that ever-varying ele-
gance of form and harmony of tint which is the contradistinguishing mark of God's
creations. Wonderful though they be, these inventions of man — these his mute
senseless drudges — they all of them bear legibly and indelibly stamped upon
all their lineaments, the name of makeshift. Mere makeshifts they are and
must remain — something inferior stuck in to supply the want of better that cannot
be had — confessions of weakness — reminding us even more of human littleness
and feebleness than of its power.
There is quite as little to interest the eye in the interior of the structure
round which we have been loitering and musing as in its exterior. Through the
great central door you pass into a spacious hall, cool, airy, and pleasant in sum-
mer, but bare of ornament. There appears to be something imposing in its
mere size and proportions, but perhaps this is self-deception— attributing to the
building the impression produced by the presence that lies beyond. A few
attendants in plain dresses are lounging in the hall ; always civil, but always
cool— they answer any questions with Spartan brevit}^ and allow the inquirer to
THE ADMIRALTY AND THE TRINITY HOUSE. 147
pass on. The public rooms are, like the vestibule, sufficiently spacious and well
proportioned, furnished with everything necessary to facilitate the discharge of
business — decorously simple. Except in the extent of the building there is nothing
to distinguish it from the private establishment of some great mercantile firm.
It is nothing of outward show that impresses us as we pass through these suites
of rooms : it is our consciousness of a spiritual presence which has pervaded
them ever since they became the residence of the central management of the
British navy.
How many an anxious, how many an elated heart, passes daily in and out
of this buildin": ! Nerves that would remain unshaken, minds that would
remain self-possessed, while the iron-hail-shower of a broadside was crashing
throuirh bulwark and bulkhead, or while the thunders of whole fleets beneath the
smoke-canopy of their own creation were shaking the breezy atmosphere into a
calm, sulphurous and portentous as that which broods over an earthquake, have
here become relaxed and confused as those of a bashful girl. The midshipman
as he passed up these broad stairs has felt that there was something worse on
this earth than a mast-heading, and even his petulance has been subdued ; nay,
the equanimity of the most coolly imperious captain has been shaken. Perhaps
Nelson has laid his hand upon these banisters while his far-distant spirit was
marshalling the future fights of Trafalgar and the Nile, or giving orders to
hang out the signal — " England expects every man to do his duty." Poor Dal-
rymple, the first Admiralty hydrographer, has here been convulsed with the
wayward querulousness of age, attributing to malevolence and oppression the
conduct rendered necessary by his own dotage. Cook passed up these stairs to
report what unknown regions and tribes he had discovered, and how he had
triumphed over sickness, and brought back a crew scarcely diminished by
death, from a long, distant, and dangerous voyage. Here many a plan of
action has been struck out which conducted to victory ; many a one, in defiance
of the absurdity of which the skill and courage of British sailors have gained
victories. The succession of gallant spirits endowed with scientific acquirements,
calmness, and fertility of resource in unexpected emergencies, honourable pride
in their profession and devotion to their country, which has filled these walls for
a great part of two hundred years, is unsurpassed in history.
It is impossible for any citizen of a state which is so essentially maritime as
Great Britain, not to feel that this centre of our naval organization is among the
most interesting localities that London contains, and to feel irresistibly tempted
to linger on the spot conjuring up an outline of the stages through which our
navy has passed into its present maturity of growth.
Most of our kings since the Conquest appear to have possessed some vessels of
war; and an Amiral de la Mer du roi d'Angleterre appears on the records as
early as 1297. But the English ''Amiral" was at this time merely a great
officer of state, who presided generally over maritime affairs. Often not a pro-
fessional person, his duties were, not to command ships in battle, or indeed at
any other time, but to superintend and direct the naval strength of the kingdom,
and to administer justice in all causes arising on the seas. In the former capa-
city he may be considered as '' the original Admiralty;" his judicial functions
l2
148 LONDON.
have long been separated from the administrative, and are discharged by the
'' Hiffh Court of Admiralty/' which nestles beside the Ecclesiastical Courts in
Doctors' Commons. Lord Stowell might have been called in old times '' Amiral
du roi d'Angletcrre :" think of an admiral in a wig and gown ! And fleets
in these early days were fitted out when the King went to war, by adding to his
own little squadron, merchant-vessels pressed from all parts in the kingdom ; for
the pressgangs of old took the ships along with the sailors.
The naval affairs of Great Britain continued much on this footing till the close
of the fifteenth century. It has been usual to assume that Henry VII. was the
first king who thought of providing a naval force which might be at all times
ready for the service of the state. It does not appear that Henry did more in
this way than building the ' Great Harr3%' which writers on this subject have
agreed among themselves to call the first ship of the royal navy. But there
were royal ships before his time ; and as for general attention to naval affairs,
there was quite as much paid by Edward IV. as by Henry VII. The fitting
place for looking a little more narrowly into this question, however, will be when
we come to speak of the Trinity House.
Henry VIII. is said to have " perfected the designs of his father," which being
interpreted, means that the existence of a real royal or state navy, such as
England has possessed since his time, cannot be traced back to an earlier period.
He instituted the Admiralty and the Navy Office ; established the Trinity House
and the dockyards of Deptford, Woolwich, and Portsmouth; appointed regular
salaries for the admirals, captains, and sailors, and, in short, made the sea-service
a distinct profession. He also made laws for the planting and preservation of
timber; caused the ^ Henri Grace de Dieu' to be built, which is said to have
measured above 1000 tons; and left at his death a navy, the tonnage of which
amounted to 12,000 tons. The ships of this age, say the historians, ''were high,
unwieldy, and narrow ; their guns were close to the water ; they had lofty poops
and prows^ like Chinese junks;" and Sir Walter Kaleigh informs us, "that the
' Mary Kose,' a goodly ship of the largest size, by a little swing of the ship in
casting about, her ports being within sixteen inches of the water, was overcast
and sunk." This took place at Spithead in the presence of the king, and most
of her officers and crew were drowned.
What little we know of the navy of Bluff King Harry's time is almost entirely
confined to the existence of such lubberly craft as the ' Mary Rose' and certain
government offices. Coming down to the days of Queen Bess we scrape ac-
quaintance with the gallant fellows who manned her somewhat improved vessels.
Elizabeth was economical. Though she increased the navy — at her death it con-
sisted of 42 ships, measuring 17,000 tons — and though she raised the wages of
seamen to 10.y. a-month (under her father they appear to have been only about
5^. per month), yet she encouraged the merchants to build large ships, which on
occasion were converted into ships of war and rated at 50 to 100 tons more than
they measured. Of the 176 ships, manned by 14,996 men, which met the
Spanish Armada, a considerable number were not ''shippes royal." Raleigh's
criticism on the faulty build of the ' Mary Rose ' will lead the reader to the in-
ference that in his time naval architecture had made some progress. This
THE ADMIRALTY AND THE TRINITY HOUSE. 149
improvement, however, was most marked under Elizabeth's successor, who had
the good sense to encourage Phineas Pett. Pett, who has been called our earliest
able and scientific ship-builder, made many improvements in the construction of
vessels, and in particular relieved ships of much of their top-hamper. This the
more deserves notice as it seems to be the only respect in which naval matters
advanced under James. Signals, as a means of communication between ships,
had been introduced under Elizabeth.
But we have intimated above that in the age of Elizabeth and James we
scrape acquaintance with the sailors as men. The great national effort by
which — with the assistance of the bad choice the intruding invaders made of a
season of the year for their expedition — the Spanish Armada was discomfited,
may be regarded as in part the natural consequence of the growth of the spirit
of maritime enterprise in England, in part the cause of a great and sudden de-
velopment which it received at that time. The exaggerated estimate made of
the gain of the Spaniards by their American conquests had stirred the emulation
of England. Merchants of Bristol and merchants of London were fitting out
voyages of discovery and soliciting the royal countenance to their efforts.
Oxford was seized by the prevailing epidemic : her mathematicians and her
historical students were full of the thoughts of new Indies, busily devising how
their own scientific acquirements could most promote discovery. Dr. John Dee
was making maps as well as casting nativities, and Hackluyt was lecturing on
geography at Oxford. The high nobility became associated with adventures
to unknown lands, as we have seen their descendants with all kinds of joint-stock
companies and other bubble speculations. An Earl of Warwick was at the ex-
pense of having published at Florence the ' Arcano del Mare,' a treatise on
navigation. Earls of Bedford, Lords Chamberlain, and other nobles who in
that half- feudal age still ruffled with troops of retainers, cherished their gallant
naval dependants more than any others. The Frobishers, Drakes, and the rest
of these patriarchs of our fleet almost all started in life as followers of some
nobleman. The young gentry of Devonshire and Cornwall, the Raleighs and
the Gilberts, partly from natural inclination, partly because they saw '' that
way promotion lay," sought to swing themselves into notoriety by entering the
sea-service. The theory as well as the practice of navigation was studied — the
discovery and colonisation of new lands and the seamanship of the whole nation
went hand in hand. It was court fashion, but it was quite as much country
fashion. The queen had the good sense to encourage this spontaneous burst of
national energy, and to feel that countenance was almost all she needed to give.
In those days might be seen the bold speculator Michael Lok, who gambled in
adventures of discovery, seated between the mystical scholar Dee and the stout
practical mariner Frobisher, devising how, by skirting the polar ice, they might
discover the direct road to Cathay. Next might be seen each of these stirring
up their respective patrons to furnish forth the enterprise ; Master Lok nego-
tiating with the Muscovy Company and other great city merchants. Captain
Frobisher with the Earl of Bedford and other patrons of '' men of action/' and
Dr. Dee with the subtle and accomplished courtiers who, like Leicester, either
encouraged learning from taste or from policy ; and when all was prepared, and
150 LONDON.
the ships ready to drop down the river, then to give the finishing grace to all
this stir and bustle did the virgin queen repair in person to Greenwich, and sit
in open air as the fore- topsail was loosened and the boatswain's shrill call was
heard, and sail after sail rose and swelled to the wind like white clouds on the
horizon ; and waved her somewhat skinny but jewelled hand, as amid a rattle of
patereros and other artillery the ships bent over from the breeze as if doing
homao-e to their sovereign, and glided off on their far and perilous errand. Our
ships were of small size then, but they carried big spirits and most picturesque
personao-es. The reader will but half appreciate the artistical value of Fro-
bisher's voyage if when he reads of that gallant seaman risking himself at the
extremities of the booms, amid a squall in the North Seas that laid his
ship on her beam-ends, he forgets the trunk-hose with which he was encum-
bered; or if he fail to note that Best, the historian of the voyage, when he
narrates the broils between the crew and Esquimaux, dwells with emphasis on
the ''gilded partisan" that was held to the wild man's throat. And Elizabeth^
the great prototype of Black-eyed Susan —
" Adieu ! she cried, and waved her lily hand," — ■
had knighthoods for her captains when they returned, as well as smiles when they
departed. It was then that Englishmen became a nation of mariners — the " tight
little island," a great tender moored in the Atlantic. The infectious enthusiasm
caught all ranks and ages ; and the poet mirrored it in his lines, or even at-
tempted to produce its bodily presence on the stage. It must have been a right
willing audience that Avas good-humoured enough to eke out to this end the
makeshift machinery of that time with its imagination ; but, seated in our closets,
the shipwreck scenes of Shakspere, and the naval battles of Beaumont and Flet-
cher, become living and breathing realities.
All have heard of John Hampden and his ship-money : that controversy between
a king and his subject marks an era, not only in constitutional history, but in the
formation of our navy. The necessity of increasing the strength, and improving
the organisation of the navy, was equally felt by royalist and republican states-
men. The opposition to Charles arose not so much out of any objection to the
creation of a navy, as out of distrust of the policy which sought to raise the money
for that purpose without the aid of parliament. It was under Charles I. that the
navy was first divided into rates and classes ; but the civil troubles during the
latter part of his reign diverted attention from maritime affairs. When Crom-
well seized the reins of government, he found the navy much reduced, but his
energy restored it, and he left 154 sail, of which one-third were two-deckers, mea-
suring nearly 58,000 tons. Cromwell was the first who laid before parliament
estimates for the support of the nav}^, a practice which has been continued ever
since : he obtained 400,OOOZ. per annum for that purpose. The navigation laws,
an important feature in the naval policy of England, were also originated by
Cromwell, or some of his councillors. The government of the Restoration, with all
its faults, had the good sense to appreciate Cromwell's naval policy. The extra-
vagance of the king, and the jobbing propensities of some of his ministers, starved
the navy for intervals j but it was a passion with the Duke of York, afterwards
I THE ADJVflRALTY AND THE TRINITY HOUSE. 151
James II., and the labouring oar was taken by the indefatigable Pepys, and be-
tween them the naval service had on the whole fair-play down to the time of the
Kcvolution. The duke introduced improved signals, and Pepys kept the accounts
in order. When James II. mounted the throne, he found 179 vessels, measuring
103,558 tons. He took immediate measures for improving the navy. He sus-
pended the Navy Board, and appointed a new Commission, with which he joined
Sir Anthony Deane, the best naval architect of the time, who materially improved
the ships of the line by copying from a French model. 400,000/. per annum
was the sum set apart for naval purposes; and so diligent were the Commis-
sioners, that at the Kevolution the fleet was in excellent condition, with sea-stores
complete for eight months for each ship. The force was 154 vessels^ of which
nine were first-rates, carrying 6930 guns, and 42,000 men.
Scientific navigation continued to be patronised during the whole of this period :
during the latter half of it under the auspices of the Royal Society. The sailing
and fighting men of the navy had not, however, become so thoroughly fused into
one class as they are in our day. Blake never was at sea till he had passed forty,
and it may be questioned whether he was ever much of a navigator. He asked
his pilot, or master, to lay him alongside of the enemy, and his self-possession,
fearlessness, and pertinacity did the rest. The Montagues and Albemarles, who
commanded under the Restoration, were not much of seamen : they trusted the
navigation of their vessels to the mariners — their business was to fight. They
were followed on board, when they hoisted their flags, by volunteers from the
court. They were high caste " waisters." The peculiarities of British men-of-
war were not fully developed so long as this system continued. It is fashionable
to speak of the fleet as republican during this period : this is one of the meaning-
less generalisations of historians. The sailors were all for their profession, and
for the land that owned their ships. They troubled their heads as little about
politics then as now. Some of Blake's and Deane's old roundhead captains retired
from the service in disgust after the Restoration, as did many of the old round-
head captains from the army ; and, as the power of conceiving a devoted attach-
ment to such abstractions as forms of religious and civil policy is generally in-
dicative of a higher grade of intellect, doubtless some of the best men were thus
lost to both services ; but these were exceptional cases. The habit of sending
land generals to fight naval battles, kept the real seaman's spirit under. It is
not to the literature of this age that we are to look for illustrations of the sea-
man's character. In the days of Chaucer they furnished good subjects to the
artist ; in the days of Shakspere, and since the Revolution, ample use has been
made of them. But Congreve's moon-calf Ben is almost the only type of the
sailor that was smuggled into the regions of art during the period now under
review.
It was not long after the Revolution that the Admiralty took up its abode
here in the official residence where we are spinning this yarn. It was in 1688
that the management was permanently put in Commission. The office of Lord
High Admiral was held by an individual till 1632. In that year it was in-
trusted to a Commission, of which all the great officers of State were members.
During the Commonwealth the affairs of the navy were managed by a com-
152
LONDON.
mittee of parliament, till Cromwell took the direction of them upon himself.
The Duke of York was Lord High Admiral during the greater part of the
reiffn of Charles II. ; when he ascended the throne he took the charge into his
own hands. Since the Revolution the office has always been in Commission^ with
two brief exceptions already noticed. The Revolution government, looking about
in search of a residence for its naval Commissioners, placed them for a time in a
house associated with rather a disagreeable reputation. The son of the infamous
Jefferies soon wasted his father's ill-got gains by his dissolute and extravagant
conduct. He was obliged to sell, with other property, the house which James II.
had allowed the judge to build in Duke Street, with a gate and steps into the
park. The house was bought by*government, and converted to the use of the
Commissioners of the Admiralty. From this they soon removed to Wallingford
House, opposite Scotland Yard — the building from the roof of which Archbishop
Usher had witnessed the execution of Charles I., and fainted at the sight. In
the reign of George II., the present structure was erected on the site of Wal-
lingford House, by Eipley; and, in the reign of George III., the architectural
screen, now in front of it, was drawn by the decent hand of Adam, to veil its
homeliness. Here has been the head-quarters of the Admiralty ever since it
left the mansion of Jefferies.
[The Adrairalty as it appeared before Adam's screen was built.]
The improvements made in the naval department of government, since the
Revolution, have consisted chiefly in those details of management which escape the
notice of the public. Its more prominent features have remained, on the whole,
unaltered. The instrument wielded by the Admiralty has grown with the nation's
growth in stature and in perfection of its organisation. Theoretical improve-
THE ADMIRALTY AND THE TRINITY HOUSE. 153
inents have made their way slowly, but not the less surely. The example of the
revolutionary government of France was required to spur on the Admiralty to
establish a telegraph. It was not till 1795 that the important officer, the hydro-
grapher, was permanently annexed to the Board. Within these few years the
steam-ships of the royal navy have been regularly increasing. And during the
time that Sir James Graham had a seat at the Navy Board, important improve-
ments were made in the system of general management, that have rendered the
Admiralty the best organised department of the Imperial government. In 1839
the British navy consisted of 392 vessels of all kinds, of which 175 were in com-
mission, 149 in ordinary, and 68 building : 34 were steam- vessels, of which only
four were in ordinary ; of these, however, no more than seven appear to have
been adapted for purposes of war. There were, besides, 30 steamers employed in
the packet-service of Great Britain. The vessels composing the navy are divided
into three classes — the first of which consists of Avhat are called rated ships ; the
second of sloops and bomb-vessels, or vessels commanded by a commander ; the
third of such smaller vessels as are commanded by a lieutenant, or inferior officer.
The first class comprises ships of six rates : — the first-rate, all three-decked ships ;
the second, all two-decked ships, whose war complements consist of 700 men and
upwards ; the third, all ships whose complements are from 600 to 700 ; the fourth,
ships whose complements are from 400 to 700 ; the fifth, ships whose comple-
ments are from 250 to 400 ; the sixth, ships under 250. Vessels of the first,
second, and third-rates are called line-of:battle-ships. A 92-gLm ship carries six
eight-inch guns on its lower, and four on its main-deck, each weighing 65 cwt. ;
and twenty-six 32-pounders on its lower deck, and 30 on its main-deck, each
weighing 56 cwt., besides six^ each weighing 42 cwt., on its upper-deck. This
weight of metal, stored up in one floating fortress, may help to convey, even to
those who have never seen that majestic object a first-rate man-of-war, some idea
of its terrible power for destruction ; and the true might and beauty of the ship
may be faintly imagined when its buoyancy, the apparent ease with which this
huge heavy mass turns and cuts its swift way through the water is conceived.
The dark threatening hull alow, the swelling white sails and tapering masts
aloft, as, like '' the swan on still St. Mary's lake," which ''floats double, swan and
shadow," the first-rate lies mirroring itself on the glassy ocean — or tearing
through the surge beneath a gale in which small craft could not keep the sea,
its bright copper sheathing flashing like the brazen scales of Spenser's dragon, as
it leaps from one mountain wave to another, one is tempted to believe that it
was an excess of diffidence in the Promethean power of man, that made us deny
him at the outset of these remarks the power of clothing in beauty the minis-
tering servants created by his genius. Less imposing, but scarcely less terrible
to an enemy, is the multitude of smaller vessels, less formidably armed, which,
on the breaking out of a war, this nation can let loose to swarm in every gulf
and bay, very wasp^and hornets, stinging the foe in the most vital parts.
To man this navy there were voted in 1839-40, rather more than 20,000 sea-
men of all ranks, and 9000 marines. That is a peace establishment. It has
already been remarked that the peculiar character generally attributed to the
British tar may be said to have been formed since the Bevolution. It partook
154 LONDON.
at first of that homeliness and even carelessness which characterised more or less
the whole English nation when the Hanoverian family ascended the throne.
When we wonder at the Hawser Trunnions of Smollett, we must keep in mind
the manners of the real Walpole — the licence taken in matters of language by
Lady Mary Wortley Montague — above all, the minute details of common
decency and cleanliness which Chesterfield expressed with such solemnity. We
undervalue that great reformer, because every child knows and practises what he
preached, but it is because he preached it. And amid all that undeniable rude-
ness which made the sailor of those days the stock subject of caricaturists and
burlesque writers, there existed that stock of unostentatious decision in action
and shrewdness of practical judgment in the sphere with which he was familiar,
which is the groundwork of the British seaman's character. There was a quiet
grandeur about the higher order of spirits in the navy at that time. In homely
majesty of character no man perhaps ever surpassed Lord Anson. Favoured in
the outset of life by his good connections, he rose in the service in a manner that
showed he must be a good steady officer, but necessarily implied nothing more.
Twelve years of his life he was contented to let his ship " ground on his beef
bones on a Carolina station ;" entering into the pursuits of a planter with as
much gusto as his elder brother into those of a country gentleman ; a universal
favourite in the colony, but alleged by the ladies to be fonder of listening to
music than of dancing to it, and most happy over a quiet bottle with a pro-
fessional friend. But he rose with the occasion, and though involved in many
I)erilous emergencies, never failed to prove great enough for the most trying.
In the hour of impending shipwreck, or on the quarter-deck on the eve of battle,
he was imperturbable, apparently apathetic till the moment for action came, and
then his impetuosity f rst revealed the tremendous power of the iron will which
must have held such energies in check. His conduct towards his prisoners,
especially the females, during his cruise in the Pacific, was marked by equal
courtesy and high moral self-control to what has immortalized one classical hero.
As a promoter of the sciences which bear upon his profession, and as a civil
administrator, he proved that his intellect was worthy to be mated with his
chivalrous heroism and morality. And all this under the cloak of a homely,
retiring, and even awkward manner. The disregard of show which characterised
men like Anson became fashionable in the navy : our seamen prided themselves
on being men who could do much and say little. It was their boast that rol-
licking tarry jackets could fight better than the gilded or pipe-clayed martinets
of the land-service. Even in excess this is an honourable ambition, and it is
to be hoped that the anxiety to prove themselves '' no shams" will remain un-
altered now that the changed tone of general society and the extension of
scientific education are smoothing off the rough angles of the seaman's deport-
ment. Science has never been neglected by him. Halley's observations were
in due time followed up by the experimental trials of Meyer's lunar tables.
Anson was not alone in that extensive study he made of Spanish discoveries
before he sailed on his great voyage, or in his care to eke out what he had
learned by necessary observation and inquiry while it lasted. Phipps preceded
Cook ', and the paternal discipline of that great navigator, and the conversation
THE ADMIRALTY AND THE TRINITY HOUSE. 155
of the men of science shipped on his voyages, trained a new and more intel-
lectual class of officers — the Vancouvers, Kings, Blighs, Burnets, and Brough-
tcns. Education has done its part. The Naval College trains commissioned
officers, and the Lower School at Greenwich trains warrant officers and private
seamen. Christ's Hospital has long sent an annual tribute to the navy. And
the Hydrographer's Office finds encouragement and employment for all who
choose to cultivate the science of their profession. The efficiency of our navy is
increased; our naval men occupy a front rank in the national literature and
science; and in the senate the sailor feels his full value recognised, and conforms
to the prevailing tone of society.
It is neither an unpleasant nor an unprofitable task to note how the British
naval officer has been polished without being made effeminate. The sailors of
Marryat and poor Tom Cringle (to give him the name by which he is best
known) contrast widely with those of Smollett and his contemporaries, but in
refinement of manners alone ; — the same wild and reckless glee, when for a time
cast loose from service — the same coolness and relish for mischief or danger,
indifferent Avhich stimulant offers itself, provided one of them does offer — the
same carrying of the single-heartedness of the boy into the matured intellect of
the man. Tom Cringle and Peter Simple are genuine descendants of Tom Pipes
and Lieutenant Platchway ; and Master Keene — Marryat's bold attempt to lend
an interest to a sharj) self-seeking calculator of how closely a man may tread
upon dishonesty — would, in ruder times, have grown up into one of Smollett's
tyrannical captains. And yet it is a curious speculation — what would the old
rough sea-dogs have thought of their successors ? Tom Pipes thought it was all
natural enough in Peregrine Pickle to write the letter which honest Tom wore
to rags in the sole of his shoe, and possibly did not despise the schoolmaster who
composed a substitute for him ; but what would he have said of officers in the
navy publishing novels, like Marryat; and books of travels for young masters,
like one whom we have lost by a "more melancholy stroke than death — the
amiable and accomplished Basil Hall ?
Enough of the gallant men of whose eyes the Admiralty is the cynosure : we
return to the house itself. It will at once be seen that here is not room for the
whole of the managers of the huge instrument of national power just sketched in
outline. It spreads over the whole of London. Here are the council-rooms and
the residences of the senior Lords ; and if you pass the broad easy flight of steps
by which access is attained to the public apartments, and ascend the narrow dark
stairs beyond it, you will find yourself in the labyrinth of narrow passages, con-
ducting to small rooms crowded with boxes and drawers full of charts, in which
the busy hydrographical department is constantly at work. On the west side of
the great square of Somerset Plouse are the Victualling, Navy-Pay, and Trans-
portbranches of the Navy Off.ce. The west terrace of the same structure con-
tains the official houses of the Treasurer and the Comptroller of the Navy, of
three Commissioners of the Navy Board, and the principal officers of the
Victualling Department. Other branches of the management of the navy must
be sought at Sheerness, Portsmouth, Plymouth, and even in the colonial dock-
yards. Greenwich, with its Upper and Lower Schools^ and its Hospital, is a
156 LONDON.
part of the great system, the training-place of the sailor-boy, and the refuge of
the worn-out veteran. And, wide though the space be which this administration
of the navy fills, a communication of inconceivable rapidity and regularity is
kept up by the cabs and busses of the metropolis, the telegraphs of the Admi-
ralty, the railroads on shore, and the steamers at sea. Where is the " Ministry
of Marine?" a native of the trim governments of the continent, where all de-
partments of state are organised after the newest drill fashion, asks when he first
comes to England. It is everywhere in the British dominions. This is the cha-
racteristic of British government, that a few heads, by enlisting, when occasion
calls, the energies of private individuals and associations, make the nation
govern itself The Steam Navigation Company, or even the Metropolitan
Parcels Delivery Company, act occasionally as Admiralty messengers, and do
their duty as effectively as if they were liveried retainers constantly in waiting,
and devoid of other occupation. By such simple means is it that in the control
of a fleet which girdles the globe with a navy of stations, the obstacles of time
and space are well nigh set at nought.
But the mechanism of our navy and the great secret of its power will be im-
perfectly comprehended unless we turn our attention to the inmates of a not
inelegant structure in the handsome Trinity Square on Tower Hill.
The Trinity House has already been more than once mentioned in the course
of these remarks. The architectural pretensions of the building are far superior
to those of the Admiralty ; and the corporation which transacts its business there
is the right arm of the British minister of marine.
Henry VHI., it is said, established the Trinity House about the same time
that he constituted the Admiralty and the Navy Office. It is not easy to say
how the truth stands, for the records of the Trinity House were destroyed by
fire early in the eighteenth century. But some expressions in the earliest char-
ters of the corporation that have been preserved, and the general analogy of
the history of English corporations, lead us to believe that Henry merely gave
a new charter, and intrusted the discharge of important duties to a guild or
incorporation of seamen which had existed long before. When there was no perma-
nent royal navy, and even after one had been created, so long as vessels continued
to be pressed in war time as- well as men, the king of England had to repose
much more confidence in the wealthier masters of the merchant-service than now.
They were at sea what his feudal chiefs were on shore. Their guild or brother-
hood of the Holy Trinity of Deptford Strand were probably tolerated at first
in the assumption of a power to regulate the entry and training of apprentices,
the licensing of journeymen, and the promotion to the rank of master in their
craft, in the same way as learned and mechanical corporations did on shore.
To a body which counted among its members the best mariners of Britain came
not unnaturally to be intrusted the ballastage and pilotage of the river. ,. By
degrees its jurisdiction came to be extended to such other English ports as
had not, like the Cinque Ports, privileges and charters of their own : and in course
of tune the jurisdiction of the Trinity House became permanent in these matters,
with the exception of the harbours we have named, over the whole coast of
England, from a little way north of Yarmouth on the east to the frontiers of
THE ADMIRALTY AND THE TRINITY HOUSE. 157
Scotland on the west. Elizabeth, always ready to avail herself of the costless
services of her citizens, confided to this corporation the charge of English sea-
marks. When lighthouses were introduced, the judges pronounced them com-
prehended in the terms of Elizabeth's charter, although a right of chartering
private lighthouses was reserved to the Crown. When the navigation laws
were introduced by Cromwell and re-enacted by the government of the Resto-
ration, the Trinity House presented itself as an already organised machinery
for enforcing the regulations respecting the number of aliens admissible as
mariners on board a British vessel. James II., when he ascended the throne,
was well aware of the use that could be made of the Trinity House, and he
gave it a new charter, and the constitution it still retains, nominating as the
first master of the reconstructed corporation his invaluable Pepys.
The Corporation of the Trinity House consists of Younger and Elder
Brethren. The number of Younger Brethren is unlimited : they are com-
manders in the merchant-service who have never served under a foreign flag ;
they are admitted on the nomination of the Elder Brethren, after taking the
oaths prescribed by the charter. The Elder Brethren are thirty-one in number :
eleven are considered noble, or in the honorary line of the brotherhood ; and
twenty are taken from the merchant sea-service. Vacancies at the board of
Elder Brethren are filled up by their electing (by ballot) a successor ; if to an
honorary member from any admirals of the navy, ministers of state, and other
persons of distinction ; if to one of the merchant-line from among the Younger
Brethren. The business of the board is in reality managed by the twenty
members from the merchant-service, the honoraries rarely, if ever, interfering.
The board consists of a master, four wardens, eight assistants, and eighteen
Elder Brethren, simply so called. The business of the board is transacted by
committees, six in number; the first and principal is called the Committee of
Wardens : it consists of the Depute Master and the four wardens ; it exercises
a general control and takes charge more especially of the treasury and accounts.
The second committee, consisting also of four members, is for the examination
of masters in the navy and pilots. To ensure the competency of these exami-
nations, the Elder Brethren are never appointed upon this committee until they
have been in the corporation some time, in order that the experience they gain
by being employed on surveys of the coast may qualify them for the task.
The third committee, consisting of two members, is for the supervision of
ballastage in the river Thames ; the fourth is the committee of lighthouses ;
the fifth for the collection of dues ; and the sixth for attending to the pensioners
and inmates of the noble almshouses belonging to the corporation.
This brief recapitulation of the constitution and functions of the corporation
will suflfice to show that it is an institution by means of which the energies of
the independent seamen which proved so available in the reign of Elizabeth
have been retained in the service of the state down to the present moment.
The lighting, beaconing, and buoying of the coasts, the examination and
licensing of pilots, and we trust ere long to add the examination and licensing
of masters and mates of merchant-vessels, are branches of maritime police,
functions of the general government. By devolving them upon the incorporated
15S LONDON.
merchant-service it is not merely a trifling economy that is attained ; it keeps
alive in the merchant-service a consciousness of its own importance that is
favourable to the general character. If the navy captain look forward to be an
admiral, the merchant captain can look forward to become an Elder Brother of
the Trinity House, intrusted with the supervision and control of the lightage
and pilotag-e of a great part of the kingdom, rendering himself of importance to
the public by his care for the safety of navigation and navigators. At no time
has the merchant-service shown itself unsusceptible of the due sense of its re-
sponsibility. Officers who have risen high in the royal service have begun their
career before the mast, not only in merchantmen of the long voyage, but in
coasters. Cook was apprentice in a collier. At the time of the mutiny at the
Nore, the presence of mind of an Elder Brother who proposed and executed the
removing of the buoys, which marked the seaward channel, paralyzed the motions
of the mutineers. When invasion from France was apprehended, the task of
preparing defences, at the mouth of the river, was intrusted to the Board of the
Trinity House, and skilfully executed. The merchant-service has kept pace with
the awakening spirit of the age, as well as the navy. The Lower School at Green-
wich supplies the merchant-service, as well as the Royal navy, with able, edu-
cated seamen. The East India trade has formed a valuable branch of the
merchant- service. Many extensive ship-owners manifest a most laudable anxiety
to promote the education, both professional and moral, of their apprentices, and
to advance the young men from rank to rank as they prove themselves worthy.
Many have done well in this respect, but none have evinced more persevering
interest in iheiv eleves, more judicious and paternal care for them, than the Glad-
stones of Liverpool. To show the high character attained by our mercantile
marine under these auspices, it is only necessary to name the Scoresb3^s, the
Enderbys, the Warhams, the Becrofts, and Lairds, who have competed for the
palm with the Royal navy in urging onward the progress of discovery.
To a superficial observer the maritime administration of England appears a
chaos — much that is of vital consequence seems to be neglected. But observa-
tions, such as have now been provoked by our visit to the Admiralty and Trinity
House, show that this is a misconception. The secret of the efficiency of our
marine is that it governs itself, and that all classes belonging to it can, in some
way or other, attain to a voice in its management. The bureaux of the Ad-
miralty contain many practical and experienced seamen ; and it is well known
that in a government like ours, in which party leaders chase each other in and
out of office, the permanent secretaries in the offices are, in nine cases out of ten,
the real ministers. The active members of the Trinity Board are recruited from
the ranks of the merchant service. The Trinity House consults the Admiralty
in cases of difficulty; the Admiralty intrusts to the Trinity Board important
practical duties. The Hydrographer's Office — the statistical department of the
Admiralty — forms a connecting link between the two Boards. These practically
trained officials are watched and checked by unofficial pupils of the same school
■ — members of the Royal navy, or wealthy ship-owners — whose ambition has car-
ried them into parliament. The maritime administration and legislation of Great
Britain, like all other parts of the British constitution, has rather grown than
THE ADMIRALTY AND THE TRINITY HOUSE. 159
been made what it is, and it has sprung up stately and athletic. As the nation
grows, so must it be extended ; as the nation improves, so must the details of its
organisation be amended. But the grand outline must be adhered to, for it is the
form that nature has given to us, and to tamper with, or mutilate it, is death.
Here we close our retrospect ; but standing in the new Trinity House when
we break oiF, as we stood in the Admiralty when we began, our eyes resting on
the old banners, and plans of almost forgotten fights, evolutions, and the gilded
names of benefactors of the corporation, our mind wanders back to the habita-
tions of the naval rulers of England in ancient days. They have vanished: the
Navy Office, in Crutched Friars, will be sought in vain. The scene of the me-
morable siege of poor, precise, garrulous Mr. Pepys by a bum-bailiff is no more.
It was a memorable siege that; far transcending in interest even that which my
uncle Toby, with the aid of the jackboots cut up into cannons by Trim, carried
on in his garden. Valiantly were the outworks defended by the servitors of the
Admiralty ; ruthlessly persevering was the blockade into which the bum con-
verted his repulsed assault; and then, when Pepys is stolen out at the back win-
dows, one feels as if one w^ould have felt if in the tale of Troy divine Eneas
had carried off Helen and the Palladium before the death of Hector, and the
Greeks, learning that what they sought w^as no longer there, had quietly beaten a
retreat.
The Old Trinity House, in Water Lane, is not even that in which Pepys
laboured: it was rebuilt in 1718, after a fire which destroyed many important
records. Yet is there something in the old Trinity House of the engraving
which forms our tail-piece that might almost persuade us it was the veritable
scene of Pepys' daily in-goings and out-comings. Between his time and the reign
of the first George the architecture of London had undergone little change. And
standing here in the clean, narrow, paved court, with tall brick tenements orna-
mented by protruding architraves of stone over door and window, and the little
scroll-shaped tablets containing the narrative of the destruction of the building
by fire, and its re-edification, we feel that the hero of the rent camlet cloak,
Avhich, ''though it was a trifle, yet it did vex him," would not be here out of
place. It is strange how this intellectual and moral pigmy has so indissolubly
associated himself in our imagination with the mighty navy of Great Britain.
It is as if, in inventing a naval mythology for our country, we were to shape the
presiding genius after the model of some Nipcheese the purser. Yet the little
man, though garrulous and vain, was of real service to the navy. He had a
turn for accurate book-keeping, a love of justice, a power of estimating that
greatness in others he so entirely wanted in himself, and it became with him a
passion to see that justice w^as done to the navy. In good times and in bad times
he adhered to his purpose — when it was fashionable at court to be honest (that
was at very brief intervals), and when it was unfashionable. He was a good old
woman, ever watchful for the interests of this brawny son of his adoption, and
succeeding in being useful to him. It is the old story of the dwarf befriending
the giant — of the mouse setting free the lion — of Wamba, the son of Witless,
bringing rescue to Coeur-de-Lion. If this had been a Popish country, it would
160
LONDON.
have been the duty of the mariners of the royal navy to burn wax tapers before
the effigies of St. Pepys.
In this want of antiquity the residences of the managers of our mercantile and
our military navy resemble everything around them. London was a city in the
time of Tacitus; 3^et the edifices of London are, with few exceptions, essentially
modern. This is typical of our civil and social organisation, in which everything
is the creation of the day, and yet retains the impress of an old antiquity.
We are an ancient people, but we are the flesh and blood sons of our ancestors,
not animated mummies, presenting caricatures of their lineaments.
[01(1 Trinity House, from an anonymous print in tlie Pennant collection.
[Exterior of Dutch Church, Austin Friars.]
CXI.— THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
No. I. — Before the Fire.
In the cliurch of St. Peter, Cornhill, there has been from time immemorial a
tablet bearing a very remarkable inscription, and which, if trustworthy in the
chief matter to which it refers, not only points out to us the locality of the oldest
of metropolitan Christian churches, but the very first edifice of the kind raised
in Great Britain. The tablet was '^fast chained" in the church in Stow's time,
and although written by what authority he knew not, was certainly then "of no
late hand." Thus runs it : "Be it known unto all men that the year, of our
Lord God C.lxxix. Lucius, the first Christian king of this land, then called Bri-
tain, founded the first church in London, that is to say, the church of St. Peter,
upon Cornhill ; and he founded there an archbishop's see, and made that church
the metropolitan and chief church of this kingdom ; and so [it] endured the space
of CCCC. years, unto the coming of St. Austin [Augustine], the Apostle of
England, the which was sent into this land by St. Gregory, the Doctor of the
VOL. V. M
162 LONDON.
church in the time of King Ethelbert. And then was the archbishop s see and
pall removed from the aforesaid church of St. Peter, upon Cornhill, unto ' Dere-
bernaum,' that now is called Canterbury, and there remaineth to this day. And
Millet [Mellitus], monk, the which came into the land with St. Austin, was made
the first bishop of London, and his see was made in Paul's church." The tablet
then goes on to inform us how many years after Brute Lucius reigned,
M.C.C.xlv. (the precision of these old chroniclers is admirable), how long his reign
lasted — no less than seventy-seven years ; and that he was, according to one chroni-
cle, buried in London, whilst another set him down at Gloucester, " in that place
where the order of St. Francis standeth now." But this is by no means the entire
extent of our information as to these very ambitious claims of St. Peter's, Corn-
hill. Stow also gives us, on the authority of ' Joceline of Furneis,' the names of
both the first and second archbishops, Thean and Elvanus, as well as of their
fourteen successors ; and informs us that whilst the first, aided by King Lucius's
butler, Ciran, erected the church, the second added a librar}^ and " converted
many of the Druids, learned men in the Pagan law, to Christianity." He adds,
evidently with a lingering belief in the story, *' True it is, that a library there
was pertaining to the parish church of old time builded of stone."* It also ap-
pears a school was held there from some very early, but unknown, period. Alto-
gether, the story forms so delightful a piece of antiquarian gossip, that we wish
it was in our power to assert its undeniable truth.
Turning to a more general view of our subject, and to matter of a less ro-
mantic, but more trustworthy nature, it may be observed that the first (in time)
of our metropolitan topographers, Fitz- Stephen, amongst his notices of the tem-
perateness of the air and the strength of the place, the honour of its citizens,
and the chastity of its matrons, its schools, its customs, and its sports, does not, i
of course, exclude a view of the provision of the religious demands of his fa-
vourite city ; and brief and unadorned as is the single sentence with which he
dismisses the subject, the facts he gives us derive considerable interest as well as
value from the antiquity of the period referred to. It is something to be able to
lift off the dark mist that hangs over the London of the middle ages, even though
it be but to learn that " there are in London and in the suburbs 13 churches
belonging to convents, besides 126 lesser parish churches.'' And a very striking
illustration the statement forms of the wealth and zeal of the inhabitants of
London, as well as of their great numbers during the period in question, and
makes it probable that there is no error, after all, as to the 20,000 armed men
who, according to the same writer (himself probably an eye-witness), went out to
a muster in the neighbourhood '' in the fatal wars under King Stephen." Nay,
it should seem, if we may judge of the increase of the population by the increase
of churches, that that population had been stationary for some centuries after
Fitz-Stephen's time, for when Stow wrote, the entire number of churches in and
about London within four miles' compass was but 139 : the exact number men
tioned by Fitz-Stephen, if we add the conventual to the parish churches, as Stow
does in his list with regard to all that were still preserved. And thus, no doubt,,
they remained down to 166G, when the great fire destroyed at once 89 of their
* Stow, ed. 1633, p. 211.
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 16
o
number^ many of them never again to rise from their ruins. Fitz-Stephen gives
us no enumeration of the buildings he mentions, but this is of little importance,
for Stow does; and it is tolerably clear that the buildings he refers to are almost
identical with the buildings mentioned by Fitz-Stephen. So that however much
older than the twelfth century may have been the churches of London generally
that existed before the fire, it is evident that their foundation must be referred
' to at least that early period. Eleven of the thirteen "belonging to convents"
may be traced Avith precision. We find on examination that there were in
existence in Fitz-Stephen's time. Trinity Priory, Aldgate, founded in 1108
by good Queen Maud^ wife of Henry I., for Regular Canons of the rule of
St. Augustine, by whose influence "was the number of those that praised
God day and night so much increased, that the whole city was much delighted
with the sight of it ;"* St. Bartholomew's, already fully treated of in our
pages; Bermondsey, the same; St. James Priory, Clerkenwell, founded for
Black nuns about 1100, near the famous well from which it derived its name ;
the Priory of St. John the Baptist, near another well of still higher repute —
Holywell, Shoreditch ; St. Katharine's Hospital, founded by Matilda, Stephen's
queen, of which the building in Regent's Park is the legitimate descendant ;
St. Thomas Aeon, founded in honour of Fitz-Stephen's master, Beckett, by the
ambitious churchman's sister and her husband, within a few years after his
murder, and on the site of their father's house, in Avhich Beckett himself was
born ; St. John of Jerusalem, Clerkenwell, the house of the Hospitallers ; and
the Temple, the house of their rivals ; St. Mary Overies, noticed in our first
volume; and, lastly, St. Martin's-le-Grand, which, both from its antiquity and
its magnificence, was appropriately named : it was founded in 700, by a king of
Kent, Wy thred ; rebuilt, and a great increase made to its endowments, about
1056, by two noble Saxon brothers ; confirmed in all its rights, privileges, and
possessions by the Conqueror, who made it not merely inde]3endent of his own
or the kingly jurisdiction, but of the Papal also, and which, among its other
noticeable features, included within its precincts a sanctuary, that seems to have
been the Alsatia of an earlier day. For a certain class of persons, those who had
occasion to pass to and fro between Newgate and Guildhall on business of a more
indispensable than agreeable nature, this sanctuary was most conveniently situated,
and the advantages it offered were fully appreciated. Thus, in 1439, when a
soldier for some crime was pursuing the route mentioned, five men rushing out
suddenly from Panyer Alley rescued him, and the whole fled into St. Martin's.
The Sheriffs in their irritation were incautious enough to follow them into the
church, seize them, and send them to Newgate; but the authorities soon compelled
them to replace the offenders in the sacred building.
If the great fire of London was calculated to beget in the minds of contempo-
raries the deepest awe and astonishment at the amount of the mischief consum-
mated within so small a space, those feelings were not likely to be lessened by
the peculiar severity of the visitation as it regarded the churches of London. In
the following list is shown in alphabetical order the churches as they stood in the
beginning of the seventeenth century, when the central portion of London must
* Stow, p. 951.
M 2
164
LONDON.
have appeared one forest of steeples.* If the reader, after glancing over this list,
will then mark how many of them have an asterisk prefixed, he will see those
which remained : surely no other single feature of the conflagration furnishes us
with so startling a notion of its effects as this : —
CHURCHES OF LONDON AND THE SUBURBS BEFORE THE FIRE.
Albans, Wood Street, W,
*Allhallovvs, Barking
Allhallows, Bread St. W.
Allhallows the Great, fV,
Allhallows, Honey Lane
Allhallows the Less
Allhallows, Lombard
Street, fV.
*Allhallows, Staining
*Allliallows, London Wall
*Alphage
*Andrew, Hoi born, fF.
Andrew Hubbard
♦Andrew Undersbaft
Andrew, Wardrobe, fV.
Anne, Aldersgate, fV.
Anne, Blackfriars
Antholin, IV.
Augustine, fV.
^Bartholomew the Great
''Bartholomew the Less
Bartholomew, Exchange,
JV.
*Battersea
Bennet Fink, fV.
Bennet, Gracechurch
Street, W.
Bennet, Paul's Wharf, fV.
Bennet Sherehog
*Botolph, Aldersgate
*Botolph, Aldgate
Botolph, Billingsgate
*Botolph, Bishopsgate
Bride, Fleet Street, iV.
*Bridewell Precinct
*Chelsea
Christ Church, fV.
Christopher, fV.
*Clement Danes, fV.
Clement, East Cheap, JV.
*Deptford
Dionis, Back Church, fV.
Dunstan, East, JV.
*Dunstan, West
Edmund, Lombard
Street, JV.
*Ethelburgh
Faith
*Fulham
Gabriel, Fenchurch
George, Southwark
George, Botolph Lane,
JV.
*Giles, Cripplegate
Giles in the Fields
'■'Greenwich
Gregory, by St. Paul
Hackney
*Helen, Bishopsgate
^Islington
*James, Clerkenwell
* James, Duke's Place
James, Garlick Hill, JV.
John, Baptist
John, Evangelist
John, Zachary
*Katherine Coleman
*Katherine Cree
^Katherine, Tower
* Kensington
*Lambeth
La.wrence, Jewry, JV.
Lawrence, Poultry
Leonard, East Cheap
Leonard, Foster Lane
*Leonard, Shoieditch
Magnus, JV.
Margaret, Lothbury, JJ^.
Margaret Moses
Margaret, New Fish St.
Margaret Pattens, JV.
'■'Martin in the Fields
Martin, Ironmonger
Lane
Martin, Ludgate, JV,
Martin, Orgar
'^Martin, Outwich
Martin, Vintry
Mary, Abchurch, JV.
Mary, Aldermanbury, JV.
Mary, Aldermary, JV.
Mary le Bow, JV.
Mary Bothaw
Mary Colechurch
"''Mary Magdalen, Ber-
mondsey
Mary Magdalen, Milk
Street j
Mary Magdalen, Old
Fish Street, JV.
Mary at Hill, JV.
Mary Mounthaw
Mary, Somerset, JV.
Mary Staining
'•'Mary, Whitechapel
Mary Woolchurch
Mary Woolnoth, W.
Matthew, Friday St., JV.
Michael, Basinghall
Street JV.
Michael, CornhiU, JV.
Michael, Crooked Lane,
JV.
Michael, Queenhithe, JV.
Michael Querne
Michael Royal, JV.
Michael, Wood Street, /T.
Mildred, Bread Street, JV.
Mildred, Poultry, JV.
*Newington
Nicholas Aeon
Nicholas, Cole-Abbey,
JV.
Nicholas, Olave
''Olave, Hart Street
Olave, Jewry, JV.
Olave, Silver Street
'^Olave, Southwark
Pan eras, Soper Lane
Peter, Cheap
Peter, Cornhill, JV.
Peter, Paul's Wharf
'^Peter Le Poor
'^Putney
'■'Rotherhithe
'^Saviour, Southwark
'■'Savoy
Sepulchre, JV.
Stephen, Coleman St.JV,
Stephen, Walbrook, JV.
*Stepney
''Stratford Bow & Bromley
Swithin, JV.
Thomas Apostle
*Thomas, Southwark
Trinity Church
'^Trinity, Minories
Vedast, Foster Lane, JV.
''Wandsworth
''Westminster, St. Marga-
ret
''Westminster, St. Peter.
The W affixed to many of the above names show the churches rebuilt by
Wren ; consequently those without either that mark or the asterisk are the
buildings that have been entirely lost to us. Among all these it would have been
difficult to have found one uninteresting structure, whilst many of them were, no
doubt, exquisite specimens of their respective architectural styles, and they all
belonged to one long period in the history of Christian architecture, when none
but beautiful buildings were erected, and the only differences were as to their
relative degrees of beauty. In their origin, names, customs — in the monuments
and inscriptions they contained — in their wealth and decorative splendour, one
might find materials for a pleasant and instructive volume ; thus, to refer to the
first point only— the name :— there is, to explain how St. Martin, Ironmonger's
Lane, came to be called also Pomary, '^ supposed to be of apples growing where
now houses are lately builded;"f St. Mary Woolchurch, from the beam placed in
the churchyard for the weighing of wool; St. Michael at the Quern, corruptly
* For a picturesque general view of these buildings in old times, see ' Something about London Churches at
the Close of the Fourteenth Century,' in vol. iv. p. 209, No. LXXXIX. f Stow.
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 165
from Come, on account of the neighbouring ancient corn-market by Paternoster
Row ; Fen Church, from the fenny or moorish ground on which it was built,
through which ran the once sweet and beautiful waters of Langbourn ; St. Bennet
Sherehog — a ludicrous popular misunderstanding of the right appellation : " St.
Syth/' writes Stow, ''hath also an addition of Bennet Shorne or Shrog, or
Shorehog (for by all these names have I read it), but the ancientest is Shorne :
whereof it seemeth to take that name of one Benedict Shorne, some time a citizen
and stock-fishmonger of London, a new builder, repairer, or benefactor thereof"*
in the time of Edward II. : and so on. Many of them, again, were very rich in
memorials of the dead, from the most magnificent structures that art and muni-
ficence could raise to their memory, down to the single stone with its " Pray for
the soul of ;" from the gloomy, and pathetic, and elaborate, and, we must
add, frequently fearfully long-winded, inscriptions, down to the humorous or
fanciful, or simply gay and cheerful ; in some cases so full of the exhibition of
animal spirits, that one would almost suppose the writer — not to say it irreve-
rently— thought death only a capital joke. Here is one, the jingle of which we
cannot get rid of, inscribed in St. Leonard's, Foster Lane, a church built by one
of the deans of St. Martin's-le- Grand, about 1236, for the use of the inhabitants
of the sanctuary : —
" When the bells be merrily rung
And the mass devoutly sung
And the meate merrily eaten.
Then shall Robert Traps — his wife — and children be forgotten."
Passing, as our space compels us to do, with this brief mention, the extinct
churches, and reserving those rebuilt by Wren for our next paper, let us now
once more glance over the list on the preceding page. Of those marked with
the asterisk, we need not concern ourselves with the more distant, as Greenwich
on one side or Kensington on another ; but as to the remainder, an interesting
question suggests itself — are any of those which fortunately escaped the fire, or
were altogether beyond its range, still preserved to us in their architectural inte-
grity ? in other words, do any of the churches of London before the fire still
exist essentially as they were ? It is pleasant to find that, though few in number,
there are such existing ; churches that not only have been spared the fire, but
the worse fate of architectural degradation that has befallen those which have
grown too old for any merely-repairing processes. The church of Allhallows,
Barking, where the headless bodies of the poet Surrey, Bishops Fisher (More's
friend) and Laud, were deposited after their respective executions on the neigh-
bouring Hill, is still preserved to us ; so is Allhallows, Staining, where Eli-
zabeth, on leaving the Tower, by Mary's permission, for a less severe imprison-
ment in Woodstock, full of thankfulness, hastened to offer up her grateful
acknowledgments to God ; St. Andrew, Undershaft, that altar, as it might almost
be called, for the worship of the old ^' Spring-time in London," and where rest
the honoured ashes of him whose heart was as open to all the freshness and love-
liness of the present, as his mind was earnest and sagacious in inquiring into the
past — (a church we could as ill have spared for Stow's sake as for its own) ; St.
Katherine Cree, where Laud displayed those superstitious tendencies which sub-
* Stow, p. 276,
166 LONDON.
sequently formed one of the chief charges against him ; the curious little church
of St. Ethelburgh, in Bishopsgate Street, so diminutive that the pettiest houses
and shops seem, in very contempt of its insignificance, to have half smothered it
up, pressing it on each side, and creeping across its front till the door below and
the tip of its fine window above, with the surmounting turret, are all that can be
seen ; St. Helen's, close by, in every way the most perfect and interesting of the
whole ; St. Giles's, Cripplegate, rich in many recollections, were they not almost
rendered as nothing in contrast with the one — Milton's burial within its Avails;
St. Olave, Hart Street, with its elegant architecture, and remains of antique deco-
ration on the roof of its aisles ; Lambeth ; St. Margaret's, Westminster ; and, still
more distant, Chelsea, where Sir Thomas More, when Chancellor, sang with the
boys in the choir, and now lies in that last sleep which, with such a spirit, could
not but be sweet; Fulham, Putney, &c. If to these are added the structures
already described in our pages as St. Mary Overies (or St. Saviour's), Bartho-
lomew the Great (the Less also has remains of the ancient structure), Ely Place,
and the Savoy — the reader will have a tolerably complete general view of the
old churches that remain. The Dutch church, Austin Friars, may here also be
mentioned. This priory was founded by Humphrey Bohun, Earl of Hereford
and Essex ; the date is shown on the exterior, 1253. Strikingly handsome as
this building still is, with its long range of pointed windows of great size on
each side, its magnificent western front, and its elegantly-clustered columns in
the interior, both exterior and interior give but a partial viev/ of the original
splendour of this house of the bare-footed friars ; the one wanting its spire, which
formed the '' beautifullest and rarest spectacle" in London, and the other the
sumptuous and all but innumerable monuments which formerly adorned it : whilst
the whole forms but the nave of the perfect structure. For all these deficiencies
we have to thank my lord Marquis of Winchester, into the hands of whose
family the place fell after the dissolution : the mayor and many other influential
persons bestirred themselves greatly, in 1600, to induce his lordship to assist in
the repair of the steeple, then in a dangerous state, for which they asked only
50/. or 601. from him ; his answer was — first, a refusal, and then the pulling down
of the steeple and choir, with the sale, for 100/., of all the rich tombs. We may
judge of the character of those memorials from the individuals to whom they
related. There were buried in this church — Edmond, half-brother to Richard II.;
the founder, Humphrey Bohun ; Richard, the great Earl of Arundel, Surrey
and Warren, beheaded 1397; Vere, Earl of Oxford, beheaded 1463; the lords
barons slain at Barnet, in 1471, who were interred together in the body of the
church; "poor Edward Bohun," Duke of Buckingham, beheaded 1521 ; with
several other noblemen, many knights and ladies, and a countless number of
less distinguishable persons.
Of the churches enumerated in the preceding paragraph, it will be neces-
sary to notice in detail only the more important. The name of Barking
church, AUhallows, was evidently a great favourite with our ancestors ; our list
exhibiting no less than eight metropolitan buildings similarly dedicated; a cir-
cumstance no doubt to be attributed to the great popularity of the holiday of
AU-hallowmas, which having, it is supposed, its origin in pagan times, seems to
have been first incorporated into the Christian system by Pope Boniface IV. in
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 167
the seventh century. The Pope's object in so doing is stated in a passage
from an old manuscript transcribed by Strutt, in his ' Horda Angel Cynnan/ to
be the correction of '' our omissions for many a Saint's day in the year we have
unserved, for there be so many that we may not serve them all;" but
Mr. Forster, in his * Perennial Calendar/ says that '' the Church, in this great
festival, honours all the Saints rising together in glory :" so when a new
church was to be dedicated in the earlier ages of Christianity, and the perfections
of the different apostles, saints, and martyrs were canvassed, whenever there was
much difficulty of choice, we may easily imagine how All Saints would carry the
day. What better watchers and warders, too, either for the living or the dead,
could be desired ? Some such feeling possibly it was that led Richard I. to found
a " fair chapel " here, on the north side, apparently with the intention of being
buried in it; and it is said that his heart was actually interred in the church
under the high altar. Legend connects another monarch with Allhallows, Barking,
in an interesting point of view. Edward I., when Prince of Wales, is said to
have been admonished in a vision to erect an image to the Virgin, and told at
the same time, that if he visited the said image five times a year, he should be
victorious over all nations, and more particularly over those which he most
yearned to conquer, Scotland and Wales. He did erect one accordingly, as
well as further augment the revenues and establishment of the chapel ; and the
image became so famous, that pilgrimages were regularly performed to it, down
even to the period of the suppression : forty days' indulgence was the reward for
all such pilgrimages. The chapel continuing still an object of royal solicitude, wc
find Edward IV. calling it " the King's," and empowering his brother John, Earl
of Worcester, to found a brotherhood in it; whilst Richard III. rebuilt it, and
founded a regular college of priests there. All these notices indicate great
antiquity, as well as great interest in the structure in early times ; and the
sight of the interior confirms, in some degree, all that the enthusiastic antiquary
might be apt to imagine from them. The church generally is of the Gothic style
prevalent in the Tudor era, but there are certain pillars on each side of the nave,
toward the western extremity, that at once attract the eye by their dissimilarity
to the remainder : these are low, massive, round — in a word, Norman. The
antique inscriptions, monuments, and brasses too, all about us, point far back-
wards over the stream of time. If from among the latter, where all are so interest-
ing, we select one for mention, the best perhaps is the brass plate of John
Rulche, 1459, who appears in a close-fitting gown, with long hair, hands clasped
upon his breast, a pouch at his girdle, and a rosary on his arm. We have already
mentioned that the Earl of Surrey, and the Bishops Fisher and Laud, were in-
terred here after their executions, but it was only for a limited period in each
case. Surrey's remains were removed in 1614 to Framlingham ; Fisher's, first
buried in the churchyard here, were taken to the chapel in the Tower, and
placed by the side of his murdered friend the great Chancellor More; and
Laud's, whose temporary resting-place was the chancel, were afterwards taken
down to St. John's College, Oxford. A terrible and, in one respect, curious acci-
dent injured the church in 1649 — the explosion of a quantity of gunpowder, which
at the same time destroyed fifty or sixty of the neighbouring houses with their
inhabitants : one of these was an alehouse full of people at the time. The first
168 LONDON.
person who ascended the steeple afterwards was not a little surprised at what he
saw there — a female infant in a cradle, unhurt. The parents could not be traced,
and in consequence some good Samaritan stepped forward and brought her up
as his own. To the repair of the injuries done on this occasion was added the
erection of a new and ugly brick steeple.
That the majority of the earliest churches built in London were of wood seems
sufficiently probable, if we consider merely the length of time that structures of
greater pretension must have required for their erection, and how unwilling the
enthusiastic builders must frequently have been to wait any longer than was
absolutely necessary for a temple in which to worship ; and the name of Allhal-
lows Staining points no doubt to some such state of things. Stane is the Saxon
word for stone, and was most probably applied to this church to distinguish it
from the others of the same name of wood ; and if the view be a correct one, the
choice of the word shows how uncommon was the use of the more durable material
at the time. Looking at the modern front of this church in Mark Lane, a model
of plain deformity, one would never suspect there was aught behind it worth a
single glance ; but if we step through the little court close by, the eye at once
rests upon a tower of unmistakeable antiquity. Sad reverses that tower has
known! The body to which it belonged fell in 1671, and was replaced by the
structure, of which the front already mentioned is a worthy representative ; and,
as if that was not enough degradation for a venerable steeple which could possibly
date its birth from the days of the third Henry, they have actually thrust
one of those abominable round-headed windows into its walls. But it has had
its consolations too. If tradition speak truly, it was the merry peal of its bells
pouring forth their congratulations to the parish on the release of Elizabeth from
the Tower, that attracted the Princess herself hither, as the most agreeable place
in which to perform her devotions. Whether it was that the parish had not pre-
viously coquetted much with princesses, or that Elizabeth had in truth won their
entire hearts and souls, who shall say ? but certain it is that in ' The King's
Head ' tavern adjoining, certain dishes of pork and peas appear once a-year in
commemoration of the visit, Elizabeth having regaled herself on the occasion with
such delicacies from this very house : witness those dark-looking vessels that hang
up over the fire-place in the coffee-room, the dish and cover used by her, with
an inscription between, detailing the circumstances, from Hughson's ' London,'
and a print above of the Princess from a painting by Holbein, where the future
Virgin-Queen appears in all the pride of high shoes, square waist, and out-
swelling petticoats. But apart from personal considerations, Elizabeth could hardly
have come to a more beautiful or more interesting, or, therefore, a more suitable
place. The entries of the churchwardens in their parish books, dry and succinct
as they are, conjure up many a vision of surpassing ecclesiastical splendour which
we should else little dream of attributing to the apparently insignificant-looking
church of AUhallows Staining — this thing of yesterday, as its aspect seems to
speak it. We read of a high altar dedicated to AUhallows, with '' carved taber-
nacle " work, and drapery of red Bruges satin, bearing a representation of the
Ascension ; of a silver gilt cross on the high-altar, with small statues at its base
of the Virgin Mary and St. John ; and another (very large probably) of wood,
plated with silver and gilt, having silver figures of our Saviour, the Virgin, and
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
169
St. John, the five wounds of the first marked by as many precious stones (ru-
bies perhaps), and having at its base a piece of inserted crystal covering, but not
concealing, the word JESUS. We read of three other altars similarly decorated;
of a statue of St. Katherine, with a lamp constantly burning before it ; of a
rood-loft, with a great crucifix, and twenty-two tapers of extraordinary size
burning about it. Then, to people the scene, come the priests in their robes of
red damask with leaves of gold, red velvet embroidered with golden roses, white,
green, and crimson satin, with their cross-banners lifted high, their streamers,
their incense, their choral songs ; and lastly, shutting in the whole picture, the
kneeling, devout, adoring crowds of worshippers. Then the festivals : where,
it may be asked with allowable parochial pride, were these observed with greater
regularity and zeal than at Allhallows Staining, though its reputation in this
matter be now dwindled away into a line in the register ? The simplest statement
of some facts, however, produces eloquence ; and so it is with this passage^ reviving
all the jovial hilarity of the ecclesiastical Saturnalia, the rule of the boy-bishop :
*'Paid unto Goodman Chese, broiderer, for making anew mitre for the bishop
ayenst St. Nicholas' night, 2s. Sd. ;" and this, referring to another and scarcely
less popular festival, " Paid for the hiring of a pair of wings and a crest for an
angel on Palm Sunday, 8(f.," when the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem was dra-
matised, though by no irreverent artist, nor before an irreverent auditory ; and
when Allhallows, like many other churches, would present some such spectacle as
that here shown. The parish books so frequently referred to show two noticeable
[Procession of the Wooden Ass onP-ilm Sunday.]
170 LONDON.
sjcrnaturcs — Sir Cloudeslcy Shovel's, in connexion with his own marriage ; and
Ireton's, as the alderman and justice of the peace, who married certain parties in
pursuance of the Marriage Act of the time, which made the ceremony a civil, in-
stead of a religious contract, as before, and which, subsequently annulled, has
been again and in all probability permanently revived of late years.
The objects of our inquiry now grow thick around us : here we see the low
but elc'-ant Gothic exterior of St. Olave's, in Hart Street, there the more imposing
range of pointed windows belonging to St. Katherine Cree, in Leadenhall Street,
and scarcely a stone's-throw distant, the modern and beautiful tower of St. An-
drew Undershaft, looking so light and so lofty that one could almost fancy the
architect had the idea of the famous May-pole floating in his mind as he designed
it. The interior of St. Andrew's forms a very interesting specimen of the Tudor
architecture of the fifteenth century ; and is rich in large fresco paintings of the
Apostles, in its stained glass, with portraits of Edward VI. and succeeding mo-
narchs down to Charles II., in its monuments, its noble organ, and its painted and
gilded roof But one thinks little of these things on the spot, for there in the
north-east corner is Stow's monument. Poor Stow ! the fate that followed him
in life deserted not his remains in death; the story of the removal of his bones
from his own monument to make room for some wealthier new-comer, forms the
appropriate pendant to that of his begging his bread in his eightieth year, — is
equally disgraceful and equally true : it occurred, states Maitland, in 1732. The
history of St. Katherine Cree's — the latter word being a corruption for Christ's
— church, like many others of the metropolis, impresses upon the mind the date-
less antiquity of its foundation ; the original edifice was pulled down about 1 1 07,
with three other churches, to make way for the great convent of Trinity, and the
church of the latter, under the appellation of Christ's, having been made paro-
chial, was devoted to the use of the four united parishes. The body of this
church having become, it is said, old and crazy, was pulled down and rebuilt in
1628 ; if so, there must have been a very praiseworthy determination on the part
of the architect to follow in some degree the style of the preceding building or of
some of the neighbouring churches ; but it was probably on\j an extensive repair
of the exterior that took place at the times mentioned, for the interior exhibits
proofs that there was no such self-denial in the artist's thoughts : here Gothic
and Corinthian jostle in strange, but certainly picturesque confusion. It is said
that Inigo Jones was the author of the repair or rebuilding in 1628. We hope
he is not answerable for walling up the magnificent western window, the tracery
of which is just visible at the top. That it was magnificent any one may easily
assure himself by stepping up the narrow alley in Leadenhall Street, at the
eastern extremity of the building, and gazing, as well as the place will permit,
upon the correspondent work that there lies before him. Within, among other
noticeable dead, we are reminded of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, the gallant
spirit who so baffled the hunters in Guildhall, by the sight of his canopied effigy,
and we remember without such aid that in all probability somewhere beneath our
feet, or in the adjoining churchyard, lies all that remains of Hans Holbein. In
the beautiful monument to Samuel Thorpe, 1791, by Bacon, St. Katherine Cree
possesses another claim to the attention of the lovers of art. It was after the re-
pair or rebuilding of 1628, that the consecration took place by Laud, who having
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 171
caused all necessary preparations to be made for the extraordinary scene he
meditated, appeared before the church on the 16th of January, 1630-]. At his
approach persons stationed near the door called out in a loud voice, " Open, open,
ye everlasting doors, that the King of Glory may enter in." The archbishop
then entered, and, falling upon his knees in the church and extending his arms,
exclaimed " This place is holy, the ground is holy ; in the name of the Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost, I pronounce it holy." Rising, he went towards the Chancel,
throwing dust from the floor into the air on his way, bowed, went in procession
round the church, repeated two psalms and a prayer. He then cursed all who
should profane the place, bowing at the close of every sentence, and blessed all
who had advanced the erection. What took place after the sermon is best
described in the words of Prynne, every sentence of whose pungent and humorous
satire must have cut deep, and given earnest of the coming retribution for the
bold Puritan's cropped ears and slit nose. He says, "When the bishop ap-
proached near the communion-table, he bowed with his nose very near the ground
some six or seven times ,- then he came to one of the corners of the table and
there bowed himself three times ; then to the second, third, and fourth corners,
bowing at each corner three times; but when he came to the side of the table
where the bread and wine was, he bowed himself seven times ; and then, after the
reading of many prayers by himself and his two fat chaplains (which were with
him, and all this while were upon their knees by him, in their surplices, hoods,
and tippets), he himself came near the bread, which was cut and laid in a fine
napkin, and then he gently lifted up one of the corners of the said napkin, and
peeping into it till he saw the bread (like a boy that peeped into a bird's-nest
in a bush), and presently clapped it down again and flew back a step or two, and
then bowed very low three times towards it and the table. When he beheld the
bread, then he came near and opened the napkin again, and bowed as before ;
then he laid his hand upon the gilt cup, which was full of wine, with a cover
upon it ; so soon as he had pulled the cup a little nearer to him, he let the cup
go, flew back, and bowed again three times towards it ; then he came near again,
and, lifting up the cover of the cup, peeped into it ; and seeing the wine, he
let fall the cover on it again, and flew nimbly back and bowed as before. After
these and many other apish, antick gestures, he himself received and then gave
the sacrament to some principal men only, they devoutly kneeling near the
table ; after which, more prayers being said, this scene and interlude ended."
When Prynne applied the epithet interlude to these ceremonies, he was no
doubt aware that it derived fresh force from the associations of the place; the
churchyard of St. Katherine Cree seems to have been a popular place for
the exhibition of dramatic interludes properly so called. Among entries of
a similar nature in the parish books we read, under the date 1565, "Re-
ceived of Hugh Grymes, for licence given to certain players to play their
interludes in the churchyard, from the feast of Easter, An. D'ni. 1565,
until the feast of Saint Michael the Archangel, next coming, every holy-
day, to the use of the parish, the sum of 27s. Sd" Scaffolds, it appears,
were erected all round the churchyard. Performances took place on Sun-
days, but in connection with this point, and the sacred character of the
place, it is to be observed that the pieces performed would be of a religious
172
LONDON.
character, though with a plentiful admixture of the ordinary jests and practical
fun. Of the three churches pulled down with St. Katherine's on the erection of
Trinity Priory, we have probably a remnant of one of them — St. Michael's, in
the beautiful crypt that still exists beneath a house near the pump at Aldgate, a
most curious and interesting piece of antiquity.
Let us now turn into Bishopsgate Street, and from thence into the area at the
back of Crosby Place, where a path runs between the fine young trees just
putting forth their delicately green foliage, and through the centre of the bright
level sward of the churchyard of St. Helen's to the church. The remarkable
aspect of the exterior must strike every one. The ends of two naves or bodies of
separate churches placed side by side, with a little turret at the intersection
above, is the idea at once impressed. The interior shows us that this is no fan-
ciful notion ; the double church being there still more evident, although intimately
connected together. An irregular, but far from unpleasing or unpicturesque
effect is thus produced. One set of lofty pointed arches differs from another,
ranges of windows extend along walls for a certain distance, and then unaccount-
ably stop ; the long aisle — as the northernmost of the two churches appears to
be — on one side, is balanced by a chancel occupying merely the eastern extre-
mity of the other ; the two great eastern windows extending side by side from
the floor to the roof are not alike, yet is neither subordinate to the other ; but
every individual form is beautiful, and constructed of the same elements ; and it
.^'i'i:;f!ii;;i;iiiii!MI'|iii|
Interior of St. Ilolfu's.]
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 173
is surprising the harmony that may be thus produced even where the artistical
laws of combination are violated. An air of indescribable antiquity, too, pre-
vailing over and through all, tends powerfully to the same effect. In the part
that now appears as an aisle, a long row of carved seats against the wall catches
the eye, and the inquiry into their use explains the peculiar architectural exhi-
bition around us. Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great, and discoverer,
in her own belief, of the very cross on which Christ was crucified and the very
sepulchre where he was entombed, and who built on the spot a church, was of
course canonized, and enjoyed all the honours pertaining, all the Christian world
over, to that state of beatitude. Here there was a church dedicated to her from
a very remote period, of which the nave of the present building is the descendant.
About 1212 William Fitzwilliam, a goldsmith, founded on the same locality a
priory of Benedictine nuns, and probably built a church for them, against that
of St. Helen's ; when the latter came into the possession of the nuns, which it
did at no very distant period, it may have been thought desirable to lengthen
the nuns' church to range with that of St. Helen's (hence the blank wall in
the north-east corner, on which are the Bonds' and other monuments), and to
throw them open to each other, or divided at least merely by the screen
between the intercolumniations, which we know to have existed here until the
Reformation. The seats we have alluded to were those used by the nuns.
Among the monuments of St. Helen's which most imperatively demand notice,
we may first mention the oldest and most valuable — Sir John Crosby and his
lady's, an exquisite specimen of the sculpture of the fifteenth century, exhibiting
their effigies side by side, on a table monument ; the costume is remarkable,
particularly the head-dresses, and in all its details carefully defined. On one
side near him, beneath an ambitious-looking Elizabethan canopy with double
arches, lies Sir W. Pickering, one of the courtiers of the virgin queen, who is
said to have aspired to a share of her throne, and who could plead as a justifica-
tion of his hopes the possession of qualifications which make Strype call him
the finest gentleman of the age in learning, arts, and warfare. Still farther, on
the same side, directly before the great window of the nuns' church, and with the
coloured rays from his own arms in the said window falling upon his tomb, lies
Sir Thomas Gresham ; that tomb, as becomes the eminent man whose remains
it guards, is simplicity itself — a very large square slab, raised table high, bearing
his sculptured arms, but no adornments, no inscription. Of the tablets and
other memorials on the wall beyond Gresham's monument, the most remarkable
are those to Sir William Bond, a distinguished merchant adventurer, who died
in 1576, and his son's, Martin Bond, one of Elizabeth's captains at Tilbury. A
still more interesting feature of this wall is the beautiful niche, with a row of
open arches below, through which the nuns, according to Malcolm, heard mass
on particular occasions (during punishment?) from the crypt below. By the
way, the nuns of St. Helen's seem to have been somewhat wild and unruly, if we
may judge from the complaints made by Kentwode, Dean of St. Paul's, who
visited them in 1439. He makes many suspicious remarks about the employing
of some "sad woman and discreet" to shut cloister doors, and keep keys, about
not using nor haunting " any place within the priory [the precincts of which were
extensive], through the which evil suspicion or slander might arise," about for-
174 ' LONDON.
bearino- to dance and revel except at Christmas, '• and other honest times of recre-
ation," and so on.* At the other end of the nuns' church, an immense square
mass of masonry, with urns rising at intervals, marks the place of interment of
one Kichard Bancroft, founder of the ahushouses at Mile End, and who is
understood to have exhibited this generosity in his last days as an atonement for
conduct of a very different nature previously. His monument, we need hardly
state, was a provision of his own, and from it yearly, for some time, his body was
taken out (for which, conveniences had been made), on the occasion of the preach-
ing of the commemoration sermon (also founded by himself), and exhibited to
the almsmen. Returning to the eastern part of the church, we find in the
chancel, that occupies the south-east corner, the remarkable monument of Sir
Julius Caesar, Master of the Rolls, who died in 1636. It is a beautiful table-
tomb, the workmanship of Nicholas Stone, who received for it one hundred
guineas, and on the top exhibits a piece of black marble in the form of a parch-
ment deed, inscribed with writing, and having a dependent seal. On reading the
inscription we find it is truly in form a legal document, applied to an odd pur-
pose : Sir Julius Caesar gives his bond to Heaven to resign his life whenever it
shall please God to call him, and the whole is duly signed and sealed.
Of the three remaining churches, St. Giles Cripplegate, Lambeth, and St.
Margaret's Westminster, that alone our space will allow us to mention, we can
speak but briefly. St. Giles was built by Alfune, the man who rendered Rahere
such efficient assistance in the erection of St. Bartholomew's Priory, Smithfield,
and derives the concluding part of its designation from the gate in the great wall,
near which it was erected (one of the finest remaining pieces of that wall is still
preserved in the churchyard), and which was called the cripple gate, from the
number of deformed persons who haunted it to beg. The church was partially
burnt in the sixteenth century, but a single glance at the tower and exterior
walls shows how much remains of a date anterior to that event. Here rest, in
addition to Milton and his father, Fox the martyrologist. Speed the historian,
and " Sir Martyn Furbisher, Knt.," who is generally, but incorrectly, said to have
been buried at Plymouth, where he was brought after receiving his death-wound
in the assault on Croyzon, near Brest. His name is entered as we have tran-
scribed it (from Malcolm) under the date 1594 — 5 Jan. 14. Numerous other
interesting recollections of St. Giles might be mentioned ; we must confine our-
selves to two : here, on the 22nd of August, 1620, were married Oliver Cromwell
and Elizabeth Bouchier; and in connexion with Cromwell's friend and secretary
the great poet before mentioned, we cannot but feel interested in observing in
the parish registers the frequent mention of the names of Brackley, Egerton,
and Bridgewater, dear to the lovers of Milton and ' Comus;' the family of Bridge-
water having had a house in the immediate neighbourhood.
The present Lambeth Church is of the period of Edward IV. From its
connexion with the palace adjoining, several of the archbishops have been in-
terred in it, including Bancroft, Tenison, Hutton, and Seeker. Bishops Thirlby
and Tunstal also repose within its walls. A military-looking memorial to Robert
Scot records the services of one of Gustavus Adolphus's English followers, and
* See Dugdale's ' Monastlcon/ and Malcolm, vol. iii. p. 54S,
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 175
the inventor of leathern artillery, which he used with great effect in the service
of the Swedish monarch. In one of the windows is a painted figure of a man
(said to be a pedlar) and a dog; according to tradition, the piece of land known
as Pedlar's Acre was given to the parish by the individual here commemorated.
The churchyard has a monument to the Tradescants, famous antiquaries during
the reigns of the Charleses, who lived at Lambeth, and formed there the first
Museum of Curiosities of which we have any record in England. Their garden
also was very valuable for the amazing number and variety of plants they had
collected in it, from all parts of the world.
The erection of St. Margaret's, Westminster, was owing to the desire of the
Confessor to relieve the monks of the Abbey that he had so magnificently re-
built from the inconveniences attending its use as a parish church : hence that
proximity to the grander structure, which would hardly have been permitted
under any other circumstances, and which almost makes it seem a part of it, viewed
but from a short distance. St. Margaret's has been twice rebuilt ; — in the reign
of Edward I. by the princely-minded merchants of the Staple^ and again in that
of Edward IV. : from which period we may justly date the present structure,
in spite of the extensive repairs that have taken place in 1735 and in 1S03.
Here lies the illustrious Printer, of whom we read in the parish registers :
" 1478. Item, the day of burying William Caxton, for ii. torches and iiii. tapers
at a low mass;" and a similar entry, under the year 1491, shows the fitting
honours that were paid to his memory : a handsome tablet has been placed
in the church of late years by the Roxburgh Club. Here also was buried
Skelton, the satirical poet of Henry VIII. 's reign, who was fain to take and to
keep the Abbey sanctuary, out of Cardinal Wolsey's way ; Lord Howard of
Effingham, Elizabeth's gallant Lord High Admiral, who had the chief defence
of the kingdom intrusted to his charge, at the period of the Spanish
Armada, and to whose and to his lady's memory there is here a sumptuous
monument, with their effigies ; Sir Walter Raleigh, brought hither after
his execution in the neighbouring Palace Yard ; that '' great man," as
Malcolm twice calls him. Sir Philip Warwick, who, if our readers remember
him at all, will most probably recollect him merely as giving an interesting
description of Cromwell's appearance in the House of Commons, as a young
member ; and, lastly, Milton's wife, Catherine, buried here, Feb. 10, 1657, the
'' late espoused saint " of his pathetic and beautiful 23rd sonnet. The church,
as the place of assemblage for the Members of the House of Commons during
the sittings of Parliament, is kept in excellent order, and exhibits many inte-
resting features. The architecture, where ancient, is beautiful ; and more par-
ticularly the altar recess, with its lofty groined roof, its panelled niches, and
fresco designs. But the painted eastern window is the grand attraction of St.
Margaret's. This represents the whole history of the Crucifixion in what is
considered the most masterly style of the art, and the effect is truly gorgeous.
The history of this window is worthy of commemoration. It was made by the
orders of the magistrates of Dort, in Holland, as a suitable present to Henry VII.,
for the chapel erected by him in the Abbey ; hence the figure of that monarch at
his devotions, and the red and white roses introduced into the picture. Henry,
however, dying before it was completed, the window fell into the hands of the
176
LONDON.
Abbot of Waltham, who kept it in his church till the dissolution. Then began
a series of hairbreadth escapes, through which it is wonderful the work should
have reached its present home. The last Abbot of Waltham saved it from de-
struction by sending it to New Hall, a seat of the Butlers, in Wiltshire ; from
whence it was purchased, with the seat, by Thomas Villiers, Duke of Buckingham,
whose son sold them to General Monk. The war against all such superstitious
exhibitions of artistical skill was now raging hotly, and Monk knew there was no
chance of his window escaping, except by its strict concealment ; accordingly he
buried it. At the Restoration, it was restored to the chapel at New Hall. Again
dano-er threatened it : the chapel was destroyed by a new possessor, who, how-
ever, hoping to sell the window to some church, preserved it, cased up, and after
some time sold it to Mr. Conyers, for his chapel at Epping ; by this gentleman^s
son it was finally sold, in the last century, to the committee for repairing and
beautifying St. Margaret's. Had ever window before so moving a history ?
'^'T'^''^i$'%^TM^ L.^^2^^^
[East Window of St. Margaret's Church, Westminster.]
[St. Jiiuies.. Westminster.]
CXII.— THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
No. II. — Wren's Churches.
Interesting as many of the buildings that fall within the scope of the present
article individually are, from their intrinsic merits, and the variety of historical
and biographical recollections — to say nothing of less important matters — that
belong to them, it is as a whole that we should first look at them, if we would do
justice either to them, to their architect, or to those whose conduct deserves more
admiration than it has received, the architect's employers. We must especially
recall to mind the position of the citizens of London, if we would rightly under-
stand or appreciate the noble qualities, of which the churches of London are the
enduring memorials. Every stone marks a difficulty conquered — a sacrifice made
on the part of those incapacitated in no ordinary degree for the making of sacri-
fices— an active exhibition of heroic hope, where men might have been not alto-
gether without excuse, for a long period, of something much more nearly ap-
proximating in its characteristics to despair. We must remember — to review for
a moment the successive stages of the great event in question — that " that which
made the ruin the more dismal was, that it was begun on the Lord's Day morning :
VOL. V. N
178 LONDON.
never was there the like Sabbath in London ; some churches were in flames that
day ; aiid God seems to come doion, and to preach himself in them, as He did
in Mount Sinai, when the Mount burned with fire. Such warm preaching those
churches never had ; such lightning-dreadful sermons never were before deli-
vered in London. In other churches ministers were preaching their farewell
sermons, and people were hearing with quaking and astonishment." * We must
remember the result : — twelve churches only saved out of the ninety-seven
standing within the walls. We must behold the miserable inhabitants — all
miserable ! — rich and poor, young and old, weak and strong, reduced for the
moment to one common level — in their bivouacs in the surrounding fields and
open country, where for months great numbers had to remain. We must above
all weigh the utter ruin that many must have been plunged into by their losses,
the difficulties requiring years of exertion and privation to overcome experienced
by still more, the necessity for the husbanding of every penny of money, every
thought and energy of the mind, on the part of all, to re-instate themselves in
their former position. Houses the houseless could not but build, the commercial
capital of the world could not from motives of the most evident self-interest remain
long without its halls and warehouses, both piety and the habits of piety would
naturally impel men to obtain some fresh places of worship ; but when we find
what an architect they did employ for their churches, what sums of money they
did expend upon them, and how numerous were the buildings they did erect,
it is impossible to repress a warm feeling of admiration at the conduct of our
civic forefathers, or to resist the whispers of national pride that explain and con-
centrate the whole in one appropriate word (and never may that word lose its
magic !) as the conduct of— Englishmen. These things, to our minds, are the best
parts of the history of our metropolitan churches.
Of course, impossibilities were not attempted ; and such would have been the
erection of these buildings immediately after the fire. They were content, no
doubt, at first, to worship God beneath his own beautiful sky, that temple not
made with hands, and then, as conveniences and time presented, beneath places
of temporary shelter ; it is also to be remembered that the few existing churches
would give accommodation to the greatest possible number of the members of
those which had been destroyed : and thus we may presume to have passed the
first two or three years. The general character and direction of the earliest
movement towards the erection of the present structures are not unhappily illus-
trated by the case of Allhallows, Lombard Street, as that case is shown to us by
notices written at the time in the parish register. On the loth of February, 1669,
the parishioners resolved they '' should congregate and meet together about the
worship of God " in their own parish, and accordingly deputed persons to select
a place, and build thereon a temporary structure. They next directed that the
steeple should be viewed, to see whether it could be strengthened and supported ;
on the 21st of the same month they ordered the walls of the body of the building
to be coped with straw and lime, to preserve them from further damage. A
lingering hope is here perceptible that the church might be repaired rather than
rebuilt ; but after the lapse of another year or so, when we may suppose the
* Rev. T. Vincent—.' God's Terrible Advice to the City by Plague and Fire.'
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 179
general business of London to have regained much of its usual reg•ularit3^ they
dismissed the idea as impracticable, or as unworthy, and agreed not only that
the church should be rebuilt, but, in December, 1670, that '' young and old"
would join heart and hand in expediting the work. The means at the disposal
of the parishioners in this, as well as in the other parishes, were various, but
chiefly a portion of the duty on coals, set apart by the parliament for the re-
building of London and the churches, an assessment on the inhabitants, and
voluntary subscriptions ; the whole, however, in a great number of cases, insuf-
ficient, as we may well suppose, to admit of any rapid progress; and hence con-
tinual difliiculties. At Alihallows they were so greatly at a loss at one period,
that they endeavoured to raise 500/. upon their lands, but Sergeant Pemberton
advised them that it could not be done without a decree of Chancery. From this
position they were relieved apparently by the usual process, increased exertions
on the part of benevolent individuals, for we find John Marsh, in 1693^ lending
them the exact sum stated. The year after 500/. was also raised by a parochial
assessment. These notices are imperfect, but show sufficiently the general history
of the rebuilding of Alihallows, which is but an epitome of the rebuilding of
most of the other London churches.
In the foregoing passages we must also look for no unimportant part of the
materials from which we are to estimate the architect's greatness. Without
dwelling upon the multitude of Wren's avocations at this time — the cathedrals,
palaces, government offices, hospitals, civic halls, colleges, &c. &c., he was erect-
ing or repairing, and which make it wonderful that he could have contrived to
give us so many beautiful churches in the City, rather than depreciatory of his
fame, that he should also have added some that are very insignificant — passing by
this consideration, which Wren barely needs, there is another, which it would
be unjust to his memory not to lay some stress upon, the pecuniary difficulties
above referred to, which must have hampered him at every step of his labours,
and often have materially affected the design itself, which it was the object of
those labours to carry into effect. In criticising therefore his works, it is some-
times more germane to the matter to speak of the design that the parochial
purse approved of, rather than of his ; to lament the absence of appropriate deco-
ration there, rather than in his buildings. The church of St. Mary Aldermary
offers a striking example of the importance of these pecuniary influences. Would
you learn how it was that this building became erected on the expensive model
of the former one, with its nave, and aisles, and clustered pillars, and surprisingly
rich fan-groinings, not merely decorating but covering the ceilings, Malcolm will
tell us that '' Henry Rogers, Esq., influenced by sincere motives of i^iet}^ and
affected with the almost irreparable loss of religious buildings, left the sum of
5000/. to rebuild a church in the city of London. His lady, who was executrix of
the will, determined that St. Mary's should be that church." Then, again,
churchwardens of that day, as of this, held their opinions with a pertinacity at
least equal to their information, and, we may be sure, often plagued and oc-
casionally thwarted the architect. To refer, for instance, again to Alihallows, we
read in their parish books of Wren sending about a ^nre, but the parish, or its
officers, seem to have preferred a tower — so a tower it is. Communications of a
more agreeable nature^ be it observed, occasionally passed, such for instance as
n2
180 LONDON.
that referred to in the books of St. Clement's East Cheap, under the date of
1685 '' To one-third of a hogshead of wine, given to Sir Christopher Wren,
41. 2s. 0(^.; " and that in the books of St. Mary Alderm anbury, 1673, April 10 —
" Having considered the kindness of Sir Christopher Wren and Mr. Robert
Hooke (chief mason) in expediting the building of the church ; and that they
may be encouraged to assist in perfecting that work, it is now ordered that the
parish, by the churchwardens, do present Sir C. Wren with 20 guineas, and
Mr. R. Hooke with 10."
It was under the disadvantages referred to that Wren erected the structures
which, as a whole, form the greatest monuments of his genius ; for in them he
appears as emphatically the inventor of a style of ecclesiastical architecture
adapted to the wants of a Protestant community, to whose minds the older and,
we may own, more beautiful Roman Catholic buildings were distasteful, from
their connection with the faith from which they had only emancipated themselves
after a long and bloody struggle. Of the exteriors of Wren's churches we have
little to say, the principal spires and towers having been so completely shown by
the design given in our first volume, in the ^ Building of St. Paul's ;' and, beyond
the spires and towers, there being so little demanding observation. The con-
fined and frequently obscure position of the buildings rendered it impossible that
fine architectural exteriors could be adequately enjoyed, so the architect declined
giving them, but, instead, concentrated his energies and skill in the parts ex-
posed to observation, by their height, as in the campanuli, and in the interiors.
Two external peculiarities, however, must not be overlooked — the original and
picturesque manner in which he has applied ornamented details from the Italian
to the forms of the Gothic, and the grace with which he has placed his spires on
the supporting towers. As to his interiors, perhaps variety of plan is the most
striking characteristic. Looking over the entire number of churches (fifty-three)
erected by Wren in the metropolis,''' we perceive they may be divided into three
classes — the Domed ; the Basilical (that is with nave and side-aisles divided by
pillars from each other) ; and the Miscellaneous, consisting of some with single
rectangular plans without columns, mere rooms, in short, apart from their deco-
rations ; — some with a single aisle, formed to conceal the intrusions of the lower
part of the tower on that side of the church ; — and some with pillars, disposed
within the rectangular area, to give it the appearance of a cross. The churches
of each of these classes are generally in the Roman style, but with some notice-
able exceptions— as St. Mary, Aldermary, and St. Alban's, Wood-street, both
of which belong to the Gothic — the latter, says Wren, '' as the same was before
the fire." We may here be permitted to pause a moment over one recollection
of the old church of Mary Aldermary (that is Mary the elder of the churches so
dedicated in London) ; Stow says that " Richard Chawcer, vintner, gave to that
church his tenement and tavern, with the appurtenances in the Royal Street, the
corner of Kirion Lane, and was there buried, 1348." He adds an explanatory mar-
ginal note, that this Richard was ^' father to Geoffrey Chaucer the poet, as may be
supposed;" and we think with great probability, if it be remembered with what
affection the latter always speaks of the City, and how closely he was connected
* Tl.at is, includin-. tv/o not buvut In the Hre, as St. xVndrevv'a, Holboru, and St. Clement Danes, and one new
church, St. James, Westminster.
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 181
with its various broils in the reign of Kichard II. In this very tavern, then,
with its heterogeneous assemblage of people of almost every rank and pursuit,
such as a tavern of the middle ages only could draw together, and attended by a
thousand interesting circumstances of manner and costume equally peculiar to
the time, may the young poet have acquired some of the materials for his great
poem, perhaps even the first idea of the poem itself.
Reversing the order of the three classes enumerated we will now first refer to
the miscellaneous ; in one division of which, the churches with simple rectangular
plans, with more or less regularity of outline, may be enumerated St. Lawrence,
Jewry, and Allhallows, Lombard Street ; in another, consisting of churches with
pillars introduced into the area to give the effect of a cross, St. Martin's,
Ludgate, and St. Anne and Agnes, Aldersgate Street ; and a third, the churches
with a tower introduced into one corner, and a continuous aisle to conceal the
awkwardness that would otherwise be apparent, St. Margaret Patten's, and St.
Bennet, Paul's Wharf. Greatly do the churches of this class vary in the extent
and beauty of their decoration, from St. Matthew's, Friday Street, at the lower end
of the scale up to St. Lawrence, Jewry, at the higher, which, with all its simplicity
of design, is one of the handsomest of Wren's structures ; the chaste elegance of the
exterior and the noble style of decoration adopted in the interior are equally
worthy of admiration. There is a vestry attached to it scarcely less beautiful,
where the painted compartment of the richly stuccoed ceiling represents the
apotheosis of St. Lawrence. Among the monuments is one to Tillotson, some of
whose best sermons were delivered here. The affixed name " Jewry " is, of course,
derived from the Jews, who resided in the neighbourhood from the period of the
Conqueror's coming to England, who brought many of their nation with him from
Normandy ; a locality, which in effect, through the operation of a law which pre-
vented them from burying their dead anywhere but in the plot of ground known
as the Jew's Garden, now Jewin Street, must have been their only place of resi-
dence in this country till the reign of Henry II. They then, after petitioninp-
parliament, obtained permission to purchase ground for a cemetery outside the
walls of any place in which they dwelt. They were expelled en masse by Edward
I., who graciously allowed them to carry away enough to bear their travelling
charges, but kept their treasure, to an immense amount, in his own hands. It
may be doubted whether this was so politic a mode of treatment in the long run
as his father's ; at all events it must have been very convenient to a sovereign
to have always at command such a mode of paying his debts as that referred to
in the following regal proclamation — one of the richest things of the kind in his-
tory : " To all persons the King sendeth greeting : Know all men that we have
borrowed 5000 marks sterling of our trusty and well beloved brother, Richard,
Earl of Cornwall ; for the payment whereof we have made over and delivered to
him all our Jews of England !" In the old Jewry is the church of St. Olave,
with a tablet to Alderman Boy dell, bearing a long inscription that does but jus-
tice to this enlightened and generous patron of art. Of the other churches of
this class we may mention a few for the sake of the incidental matters of interest
connected with them. In St. Edward the King, a church also beautiful, in spite of
the extremest simplicity of plan, from the picturesque effect of the dark oak pews,
pulpit, and galleries, so admirably contrived and so richly carved, and which is
182
LONDON.
remarkable for having its altar on the north, are some handsome modern stained
glass, and two pictures, Moses and Aaron, by Etty. In the old church of St.
Stephen, Coleman Street, was the monument of Anthony Munday, the great
literary and mechanical architect of civic pageants for a long period of years, a
dramatic writer, and an antiquary, who published the third edition of Stow's
' Survey,' with additions professedly received from Stow himself; and in another
old church, that of St. Mildred, Poultry, one whose inscription told us, —
" Here Thomas Tusser clad in earth doth lie,
That sometime made the * Points of Husbandry,' " &c.
Tusser's disposition must have been somewhat changeable. Fuller describes
him as " successively a musician, schoolmaster, serving-man, husbandman, grazier,
poet, more skilful in all than thriving in any vocation." Inigo Jones was buried,
at the age of eighty (as estimated), in St. Bennet, Paul's Wharf; it seems
strano-e, therefore, to read of his death being hastened by any cause, yet it is said
that he did die prematurely through the vexations and anxiety brought on him
by his loyal tendencies in politics and his Roman Catholic in religion : on the
latter ground he was subjected to a heavy fine in 1646. He died in 1651.
The church of Allhallows the Great may be mentioned for its beautiful carved
oak screen, with very slender twisted pillars, supporting a rich entablature, in
the centre of which is an eagle with outspread wings ; the whole most exquisitely
carved. The feeling that brought this picturesque piece of decoration here, is
one that it is pleasant to have to record. The Merchants of the Steel-yard, it is
well known, occupied the adjoining precincts^ and in early times probably used
the church; their descendants, the Hanse Merchants of the last century, as sup-
posed (for the time is uncertain), sent over this screen as a token of their remem-
brance of the old connection. With the church of St. Michael's, Paternoster
Royal, the name of Whittington is inseparably associated ; there it was he founded
his magnificent college, with its Master, four Fellows, Masters of Arts, clerks,
' conducts,' and choristers, and bestov/ed on it the rights and profits of the church
Avhich belonged to him. Malcolm mentions a portrait of him as being in the
possession of the Mercer's Company, which goes some way towards confirming
the truth of one feature of the popular biography of him : it bears date 1536,
the inscription, R. Whittington, and exhibits clearly enough a cat by his
side. The history of his monument is disgraceful. An incumbent of the
parish, one Mountain, in the reign of Edward VL, dared to open it with the view
of finding buried treasure, and being disappointed contented himself, we suppose,
with the leaden enclosures, which were at all events taken away at the time : in
the ensuing reign the parishioners re-wrapped the body in lead. The whole, in-
cluding the monument, unfortunately disappeared in the fire. The modern church
possesses a work of art of high value — Hilton's admirable picture of Mary Magda-
lene anointing the feet of Jesus, who is reproving Judas for his envious complaint
that the ointment was not sold and the money given to the poor, in the beautiful
passage *'The poor always have ye with you, but me ye have not always."
Lastly, in St. Michael's, Wood Street, after a strange series of vicissitudes re-
garding its preservation, was buried the head of the Scottish monarch who fell
on Flodden field. The battle was fought on the 9th of September, 1513, and
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 183
the body of James was found on the same day by Lord Dacre among the slain,
and recognised not only by him but by the deceased king's own chancellor and
others ; it is difficult to understand, therefore, how there could ever have been
any real doubt on the matter. Stow, in his account of the church, gives the
subsequent history. The body was " closed in lead, and conveyed from thence
to London, and so to the monastery of Sheen (Richmond), in Surrey, where it
remained for a time, in what order I am not certain. But since the dissolution
of that house, in the reign of Edward VL, Henry Gray, Duke of Suffolk,
being lodged and keeping house there, I have been showed the same body, so
lapped in lead close to the head and body, thrown into a waste -room amongst
the old timber, lead, and other rubble. Since the which time workmen there, for
their foolish pleasure, hewed off his head ; and Lancelot Young, Master Glazier
to Queen Elizabeth, feeling a sweet savour to come from thence, and seeing the
same dried from all moisture, and yet the form remaining, with the hair of the
head, and beard, red, brought it to London, to his house in Wood Street, where
for a time he kept it for the sweetness, but in the end caused the sexton of that
church to bury it amongst other bones taken out of their charnel."
In the churches on the ancient plan, the Basilical, with their nave and side
aisles, and central recess for the altar, and occasionally with their clerestory above,
we have to deal with a much more important class of architectural productions.
The churches of St. Magnus, Bartholomew by the Exchange (now lost), Bride,
Bow, Andrew, Holborn, Dunstan's in the East, and Michael's, Cornhill, all belong
to this division, of which they are the most distinguished ornaments. St. Magnus,
it appears from Malcolm, has been rebuilt, but, we presume, without material
alterations of Wren's design. It now presents a noble interior, in spite of the
appearance of want of solidity produced by the slender columns, and exceedingly
broad intervals between. The church is further distinguished by one of the
handsomest altar-pieces of its kind in London, and by the circumstance that
Miles Coverdale was rector of the church till 1566, when he resigned it. The
parishioners, within the last few years, have erected a handsome memorial of his
presence among them. St. Bartholomew's, with remains of its ancient tower, and
a body remarkable for its simple harmony of proportion, claimed a nearer con-
nection with this translator of the first entire edition of the Bible published in
the English language, for he was buried beneath its communion-table. Bride
Church, with its most beautiful of steeples, and its sumptuous though not very
accurate copy, in stained glass, of Rubens's great picture, the Descent from the
Cross, has a fine but not in any way remarkable interior; we may therefore pass it
with a brief notice of the eminent men who have been interred in the old or in
the existing structure ; such as — Wynken de Worde, the assistant and successor
of the great printer whom Pope, in his Dunciad, when describing the altar raised
by Bays for the immolation of his unsuccessful writings, thus mentions —
'* There Caxton slept, with Wynken by his side,
One clasp'd in wood, and one in strong cowhide :"
Sir Richard Baker, author of the ' Chronicles of the Kings of England,' who died in
distress in the neighbouring Fleet prison ; Nicholls, the author of the ' History of
Leicestershire ;' and above all, Samuel Richardson, with his wife and family,
the illustrious rival of the Fieldings and Goldsmiths. Bow Church is perhaps.
184 LONDON.
of all the buildings we have mentioned, the most distinguished for breadth and
grandeur of effect. It is an adaptation from Wren's favourite classical authority,
the Temple of Peace, at Kome. Among other peculiarities^ the happy mode of
introducing the galleries may be noticed. The memorials of the dead are nume-
rous here, and include a large marble monument by Banks, to Bishop Newton,
with an inscription^ in which is the passage — '' Keader, if you would be further
informed of his character, acquaint yourself with his writings." As to the tower
of Bow Church, that object of universal admiration for its beauty may challenge
equally universal attention to its history, which is so full of matter that we almost
hesitate in our limited space to refer to any of the details, lest we should be
tempted too far. From its foundation below — a Roman causeway, discovered by
Wren during the erection — to the belfry above where hang the bells, which
have become a bye-word ; from the exterior balcony over the door, with its
recollections of Queen Pliilippa's awkward accident, to the interior with its asso-
ciations of murder and siege, the pile, either in itself or in its ancestors, has
scarcely one separate portion that has not also its own separate story. There
was formerly a stone building near the site of the present tower, erected for the
use of the royal family to witness the great public processions that so often in
old times passed through Cheapside, and in consequence of Edward's queen,
whilst standing, with the ladies of her court, on a temporary wooden scaffold to
witness a magnificent tournament, having fallen " with some shame " upon the
knights and others beneath. The King would have punished the artisans who
had raised so insecure a structure; but the Queen interceding, he contented
himself with the erection of a proper building, of which the balcony over the door
facing Cheapside is a kind of memento. The murder committed in the interior of
the old tower was that of Lawrence Ducket, a goldsmith, who had danger-
ously wounded one Ralph Crepin, and taken shelter here, but being suddenly
seized in the night was strangled, and hung up so as to give the idea of his
having committed suicide. Some time after a boy, who had been an unnoticed
spectator of the whole, revealed the truth, and the assassins and their accom-
plices, sixteen in number, were hung, a woman ' Alice ' burnt, many rich persons
'' hanged by the purse " (Stow's expression), the church interdicted, and the
doors and windows filled with thorns, till the whole was properly purified. This
was in 1284. Rather less than a century before. Bow Church became the scene
of an event of infinitely greater, indeed of national importance. When Richard I.
was engaged in the Holy Land, his officers at home, in collecting funds for his
supply, levied an extraordinary taillage upon the City of London. A corrupt
practice, it seems, had crept into the local government, of apportioning the
respective shares of each citizen unfairly, the managers of course sparing them-
selves, who were the best able to bear the exaction, at the expense of their poorer
fellow-citizens. A citizen of Saxon descent, called from his long beard, William
a la harbe by the Normans, but properly, William Fitz-Osbert, who had already
favourably distinguished himself by his devotion to the cause of the people,
chiefly of the same descent as himself, now stood forth, and denounced, in most
eloquent language, the wrong attempted to be perpetrated. Failing to convince
the Norman rulers, he crossed the seas to Richard, from whom he returned with
a promise of redress. This was too much for the patience of his adversaries; it
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 185
was bad enough that he should fill the people, as he had done, with ^' an inordi-
nate desire of liberty and happiness ;" but that he, a Saxon, should dare to
interfere between them and the monarch, was monstrous ; so Hubert Walter,
Grand Justiciary of England, adopted a mode of prevention almost ludicrous,
for the contrast between the smallness of the object, and the sweeping and reck-
less nature of the means, that of forbidding any man of the commonalty of
London from quitting the City. Some traders, going, according to custom, to the
great fair then held at Stamford, were the first victims of this exquisite specimen
of an executive government; they were thrown into prison, and it became
evident that the prohibition was to be really carried into effect, at whatever
cost. Then began the poorer citizens to combine themselves into an association
for their common defence, and their numbers swelled so fast that when their
leader, William Longbeard, was cited to appear before a parliament convoked by
the chief functionaries of the realm, they accompanied him in such immense mul-
titudes, that no one dared to proceed with the charges against him. Other
modes were now resorted to ; skilful emissaries introduced themselves into the
councils of the disaffected, and worked upon their minds by every method that
could be devised ; the members of the government alternately conciliated and
threatened, with similar views, until the conspirators began to hesitate — to doubt
each other's fidelity, and at last to allow the government quietly to obtain as
hostages the children of a great number of families. Of course the power of the
conspiracy was then broken, and the government, relieved of its fears, exerted itself
to get possession of the ringleader, that it might be utterly annihilated. Two per-
sons undertook the dangerous task ; for some days they watched all his motions,
having at hand a concealed band of armed men, to seize him when they should
give the signal. An opportunity at last offered; he was walking along with
only nine followers; they approached carelessly till he was within reach, then
suddenly threw themselves upon him, and endeavoured to hold him whilst the
armed men rushed from their place of concealment to their assistance. But
Longbeard's hand was as ready as his tongue, and in one instant the foremost of
the assailants was pierced to the heart; in the next Longbeard was fighting his
way with his little band towards Bow Church, or, as it was then called, St. Mary at
Arches. He succeeded in getting safely into the tower, which he barricaded, and
then maintained so stoutly, that after three days spent in ineffectual attempts to
force it by ordinary means, they were compelled on the fourth to resort to fire.
Driven forth by the flames, Longbeard and his fellow unfortunates were speedily
overpowered and bound. In this state he was stabbed by a son of the man he
had slain four days before, and thus wounded, tied to the tail of a horse and
dragged to the Tower, where the Archbishop sentenced him to the gallows. In
the same terrible plight he was drawn to Smithfield, and hung with the others.
The terrible Saxon Longbeard seemed destined to be an eternal plague* to the
ruling Normans. Not long after his death a system of Smithfield pilgrimages
began, that promised to rival in popularity those of the Canterbury martyr.
People from all parts came to the spot where the '' King of the Poor " had
breathed his last, and where miracles attested the horror of Heaven at the deed
that had been committed. The Archbishop could not even drive away by force
186
LONDON.
these credulous worshippers, till he had established a permanent guard on the
spot, and scourged and imprisoned numbers of both men and women. The pre-
sent tower has been rebuilt, though on the model of the original, as seen in the
following view.
W/-/S7^A
riJow Ch'ircli and ChcapsiJe, 1750.]
The tower of St. Andrew's, Holborn, of the date of Henry VL, displays Wren's
restoring hand in so unfavourable a light that we willingly pass to the interior,
the architect's own composition, that we may admire the air of magnificence he
has given to it. All the accessories tend to enhance this effect — the gildings, the
paintings, the stained glass, which in the chancel reach to a high point of splen-
dour. St. Andrew's may almost be called the poets' church, from the number of
that glorious but unhappy fraternity that have been in one way or another con-
nected with it, from the time of Webster, the author of the ' White Devil' and
the ' Duchess of Malfy,' who was parish clerk, down to the late Kenry Neele, in-
terred here, after his suicide in a state of temporary insanity. Under the date of
1698, as Malcolm was informed, the parish register records the christening of the
poet Savage, by direction of Earl Rivers, who, according to the mother — Lady
Macclesfield's — own confession of unfaithfulness to her husband, was the father.
Disowned as he grew up by both his unnatural parents, unaware even who they
were, till accident discovered them to him, suffering generally from poverty, and
almost unceasingly from his own ill-regulated passions ; there are few literary
lives more truly melancholy than that of Savage. We need not wonder that
(in Johnson's words), he was *' very seldom provoked to laughter." One terrible
event with him seemed ever to be the precursor of another, each increasing in
intensity. The killing a man in a tavern broil leads to sentence of death, and
that to a mother striving to intercept the pardon bestowed upon him, and the
whole to the publication of *Uhe Bastard," in which poetry was prostituted to the
most awful purpose, perhaps, on record — that of holding a mother up to the
reprobation and contempt of the world. Yet, if ever there was a man deserving
pity, it was Savage ; and he obtained more than that from one who was little
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 1^7
ncllned, by habit or principle, to confound right and wrong. The friendship of
Johnson and Savage is one of the most touching and beautiful things in literary
listory. If greater sufferings were needed than he experienced generally
;hrough life to expiate his faults, the circumstances of his death, in a jail at
Bristol for debt, in 1743, may surely be deemed sufficient. As in one poet's his-
;ory we have wandered by a melancholy path from St. Andrew's to Bristol, by
l:hat of another still more saddening, on account of the loftier nature concerned,
kve may return. Nine years after Savage's death in Bristol there was born in
jthe same place one who, coming to London with the romantic notion that talents
3f a generally high order as a writer, and powers unsurpassed at the same age
lis a poet, should be sufficient to supply his moderate demands of food, clothing,
and raiment ; possessing at the same time too much pride to turn his muse into
I lackey to dangle after patrons, found himself, after the most indefatigable ex-
3rtions, literally starving. Suicide and the workhouse burying-ground of St.
Andrew's complete his history, at the age of seventeen. The parish register of
August 28, 1770, shows the following entry — '' William Chatterton,'' the mistake,
jf course, regarding the name of a pauper being very excusable. The only thing
i;hat surprises us is the addition by a later hand, of the words ^' The Poet."
Had not that fact better be forgotten at St. Andrew's ?
With respect to the churches of St. Michael, Cornhill, and St. Dunstan, East, one
)f the most curious results of Wren's studies in combining the Italian and Gothic
jtyles is exhibited in the history of the former, which had first a body erected in
phe Italian style to the fine old Gothic tower spared by the fire, and then, fifty years
I ater, when the tower was pulled down, a reversal of the former process in the
,erection of a Gothic tower to the Italian body. Fabian was buried here. The
tower of St. Dunstan's is an imitation of that of St. Nicholas at Newcastle, built
in the fifteenth century, a circumstance that of course lessens the architect's merit
in giving us so elegant and fairy-like a thing. Wren's biographer, Elwes, gives
the following anecdote on the authority of an anonymous friend : — '' When Sir
Christopher Wren made the first attempt of building a steeple upon quadran-
gular columns in this country (St. Dunstan's in the East), he was convinced of
the truth of his architectural principle; but as he had never before acted upon
it, and as a failure would have been fatal to his reputation, and awful in its con-
sequences to the neighbourhood of the edifice, he naturally felt intense anxiety
when the superstructure was completed, in the removal of the supporters. The
surrounding people shared largely in the solicitude. Sir Christopher himself
went to London Bridge, and watched the proceedings through a lens. The
ascent of a rocket proclaimed the stability of the steeple ; and Sir Christopher
himself would afterwards smile that he ever could, even for a moment,
have doubted the truth of his mathematics." — J.J. Mr. Elwes says the first
part of the story is evidently incorrect, and that Wren would hardly have
attempted what he doubted ; he then relates as evidence " on the contrary," that
the architect being informed one night that a dreadful hurricane had damaged
all the steeples in London, at once replied, " Not St. Dunstan's, I am quite sure."
The last story, however, rather supports than contradicts the first ; the speech of
the one is but the smile of the other put into words; and both may be referred to
188 LONDON.
a similar origin, some — misunderstood — peculiarities in the mode of erection ; it is'
to be observed also, that doubts during experiments and after, are very different!
things. The body of the church built by Wren has now gone, it having been re-
built in harmony with the steeple, by Mr. Laing, in the years 1817 to 1821. At
the east end, a large and beautiful window has been preserved, which is under-
stood to have been an exact copy of one Wren discovered in the re-building.
Among the events which have been recorded as preserving tjie features of old
times and customs, better than any regular descriptions could do, is one of some
interest connected with St. Dunstan's, thus given in ' Stow's Chronicle:'—
'*In the year 1417, and on the afternoon of Easter Sunday, a violent quarrel
took place in this church between the ladies of the Lord Strange and Sir John
Trussel, Knt., which involved the husbands and at length terminated in a general!
contest. Several persons were seriously wounded ; and an unlucky fishmonger
named Thomas Petwarden, killed. The two great men, who chose a church foij
their field of battle, were seized, and committed to the Poultry Compter ; and'
the Archbishop of Canterbury excommunicated them. On the 2lst of April that
prelate heard the particulars at St. Magnus Church, and, finding Lord Strange
and his lady the aggressors, he cited them to appear before him, the Lord Mayor
and others, on the 1st of May, at St. Paul's, and there submit to penance, whicl;
was inflicted by compelling all their servants to march before the rector of St
Dunstan's in their shirts, followed by the Lord, bareheaded, and the Lady bare
footed, and Kentwode, archdeacon of London, to the church of St. Dunstan, where
at the hallowing of it. Lady Strange was compelled to fill all the sacred vessels
with water, and offer an ornament, value 10/., and her husband a piece of silvei
worth 5/.'^ What a contrast to this state of things is the bill now before parlia
ment, where the Church steps forward to renounce the last few vestiges thai
remain to it of the power which caused such scenes to be exhibited in our street:
and churches ! Among the remaining buildings of the Basilical style may he
mentioned St» Andrew Wardrobe, with its striking monument by Bacon to Ro
maine ; St. Augustine, where the fraternity of the same name were accustomed
as Strype tells us, to meet on the eve of St. Austin, and in the morning at higl
mass, when every brother offered a penny, and afterwards was ready either to ea
or to revel, as the master and wardens directed ; St. Sepulchre's, with its exceed
ingly beautiful antique porch and its dreadful associations with the neighbourini.
prison ; and, lastly, St. James, Westminster, where Wren has exhibited the mos
consummate union of beauty and fitness in the interior, and, as a kind of practica
antithesis, left the exterior destitute of these or any other valuable qualities
The church was founded, chiefly through the agency of the Earl of St. Albans,
as a chapel of ease to St. Martin's during the latter part of Charles's reign, bu'
made parochial in the reign of Charles's successor, James. There are man]
features of the interior that will repay the visitor's attention, but more particu
larly the marble font, carved by Gibbons, an exquisite specimen of art. Th(
support of the basin consists of the trunk of the tree of knowledge, with the
branches and foliage of which it is partially covered, and by the side of the tret
* * Londinum Redivivum,' v. iii. p. 441.
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 189
; jire two of the most gracefully sculptured figures that can be well conceived, repre-
senting Eve offering to Adam the apple. In this church was buried the footman,
bookseller, and poet, Dodsley.
In the last class of Wren's churches that we have to notice, the Domed, the
i genius of the architect shines out more clearly than in either of the others, as
I being works of greater pretension than the one class, and not, like the other (the
Basilical), apt to suggest by its form thoughts of the still more beautiful, ancient
jstyle that they superseded. At the head of this division stands the far-famed St.
Stephen's, Walbrook, into the interior of which no one can have ever entered for
the first time without obtaining a higher opinion even of the architect of St.
[Paul's. Proportion, harmony, and repose are its pervading characteristics ; and,
jwith one exception — the walls left almost in their primitive nakedness — he seems
|to have felt the influence of his own beautiful work lead him into a greater
liegree of delicacy in all the subordinate features of decoration to harmonise
therewith, than is usual with him. Hence the perfect effect produced. Hence
the opinions of one of our most accomplished architectural critics, that all
jthings considered its equal in its style is not to be found in Europe : hence
the observation, '' Had the materials and volume been so durable and exten-
sive as those of St. Paul's Cathedral, Sir Christopher Wren had consum-
mated a much more efficient monument to his well-earned fame, than that
fabric affords."* The dimensions of St. Stephen's are only 82 feet 6 inches from
ast to west, within the walls, and 59 feet 6 inches from north to south, the
[ground plan forming therefore nearly a parallelogram. Of the incidental features
of the church, the most remarkable is West's picture of the death of St. Stephen,
which is placed against (thereby concealing) the central eastern window. The
exterior, as usual. Wren has treated as though scarcely condescending to notice
its existence ; till the aspiring steeple attracts his regard, when he puts forth his
strength, and makes it his own. St. Benet Fink, with its external walls in the
form of a decagon, and worthy of notice if it be only for the ingenuity exhibited
in the conquest over the difficulties attending a confined and irregular position,
is another church of this class ; as are also St. S within' s. Cannon Street, with the
oldest piece of metropolitan antiquity, the well-known London stone, let into its
exterior walls, and St. Antholin's, or Anthony's ; neither of which, however, require
any more particular architectural notice. Near to the last-mentioned building,
the Scottish commissioners were located during their residence in London just
before the outbreak of the Civil War, and there was a passage from the house
into the gallery of the church ^ the minister of which was a Puritan. '' This
benefit," says Clarendon, '' was well foreseen on all sides in the accommodation,
and this church assigned to them for their own devotions, where one of their own
chaplains still preached, amongst which Alexander Henderson was the chief.
To hear these sermons there was so great a conflux and resort by the
citizens, out of humour and faction, by others of all qualities out of curiosity, by
some that they might the better justify the contempt they had of them, that from
the first appearance of day in the morning of every Sunday to the shutting in of
* Biittou aiul Pugui's Illustrations of the Public Buildings of Loudon.
190 LONDON.
the lio-ht the church was never empty ; they (especially the women) who had the
happiness to get into the church in the morning (they who could not hung upon
or about the windows without, to be auditors or spectators) keeping the places
till the afternoon exercises were finished." The noble historian, whilst covertly
satirising the folly or credulity or *' faction," that could alone in his opinion bring
such assemblages together, tells us something that requires still greater faith or
absurdity to believe, namely, that the service was flat and insipid : a cause un-
likely to produce such effects ; incredible, if we consider the fiery fanaticism
which every where characterised the parties in question. But taste is often made
the scapegoat of opinion. The Cavaliers, whose opinion Clarendon has here most
probably perpetuated, would of course like the men as men very little, their busi-
ness in London less (to negotiate a treaty with their monarch, backed by an irresist-
ible army in the northern counties), their increasing intimacy with the English
reformers, religious and political, least of all ; for it was tolerably evident by this
time that in the forthcoming struggle the Scotch would play an important part,
and very possibly have the power in their hands to turn the scale decidedly in
favour of king or people. Apart from the novelty (a most refreshing one to
many) of seeing and sharing in a more simple mode of worship than had been
permitted since Laud's ascendancy (of whose proceedings the consecration of
Katharine Cree in our last number offers a striking example), this no doubt was
the origin of such assemblages. To the English reformers it was all but a matter
of life and death the part these men at St. Antholin's would take. Strafford's
trial was pending, Laud had been just arrested, the tide of the revolution was
rolling on, but as yet with a force which the King might possibly be able to con-
tend with successfully; we may imagine, then, the importance of that army on
the frontiers, of that declaration made by one of the commissioners, Baillie,
respecting the negotiations, which, said he, '' we will make long or short accord-
ing as the necessities of our good friends in England require, for they are still in
that fray, that if we and our army were gone they were yet undone." In the
church of St. Mildred, Bread Street, which is small, without columns, but beau-
tiful from the elegance of the arches which support the dome, and of the cornice
of the latter, we meet with a later reminiscence of the Civil War in connexion
with the memorial of Sir T. Crisp, which refers to the exertions of his father,
Sir Nicholas Crisp, in the royal cause, involving, it is stated, losses exceeding in
amount 100,000/. ; "but this was repaired in some measure by King Charles IL :"
a fact that should never be forgotten, since there are so very few of the kind in
the history of the " merry monarch." The Sir Nicholas Crisp referred to was a
wealthy merchant of London, who had been driven from thence by a parlia-
mentary prosecution, and joined the King at Oxford. He is said to have been
Charles' chief agent for the receipt of foreign succours, as well as the manager
of no inconsiderable part of a similar business aj home. Whilst the King was in
the lines at Oxford, Crisp was most indefatigable in his vocation, a perfect
Proteus in the shapes he assumed to elude the inquiries or interference of the
parliamentarians : one day he was to be seen as a porter, with a basket offish on
his head, watching the arrival of vessels ; the next, as a mounted butter-woman
between her panniers, on the road to head-quarters. In 1643 he set on foot a
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 191
plot to secure a large body of secret adherents in the metropolis, ready at any
time to start into sudden activity, by obtaining from the King a commission of
array, which Crisp was to fill up with the proper names. The plan was, however,
discovered by Parliament, about the same time that it discovered the poet Wal-
ler's, and the two not unnaturally became intimately blended together in the
minds of the people. The only remaining churches that we shall notice are those
of Mary Abchurch, and Mary at Hill. The former exhibits in the interior a
large and handsome dome supported on a medallion cornice, and is adorned with
paintings by Sir James Thornhill, according to Mr. Britton, whilst, in the Pic-
torial England, Isaac Fuller, one of the indigenous scholars of the Verrio school,
is mentioned as the painter. The Corinthian altar-piece is decorated by some of the
finest carvings of the finest of masters in the art. Gibbons, whose name we have
had occasion to mention so frequently in connexion with the churches of London,
that one cannot help wondering where he found time to execute his manifold com-
missions. The delicacy of the carvings of St. Mary Abchurch reminds one of the
story of the pot of flowers carved by the same artist whilst living in Belle Sauvage
court, "^ which shook surprisingly with the motion of the coaches that passed by."
St. Mary at Hill we mention not so much for the sake of the architecture of the
present structure, as for the opportunity of giving another illustration from the
history of the former of the magnificence of the old churches of the metropolis.
St. Mary's had no less than seven altars, each with its chantry priest regularly
and permanently attached, and three brotherhoods, comprising of course a still
larger number of religious. This gives us a pretty fair glimpse of the magni-
tude of the former establishment of St. Mary ; the inventory of the apparel for
the high altar, only, with the date 1485-6, gives us more than a glimpse of its
splendour. It occupies great part of three quarto pages in Malcolm, and includes
such items as altar cloths of russet cloth of gold ; curtains of russet sarsenet,
fringed with silk ; a complete priest's '' suit of red satin, fringed with gold,"
which comprised, it appears, three copes, two chasubles, two albs, two stoles,
two '' amytts," three fanons, and two girdles ;* another suit, of white cloth of
gold ; a third, of red cloth of Lucchese gold ; vestments of red satin, em-
broidered with lions of gold, and of black velvet, powdered with lambs, moons,
and stars; canopies of blue cloth of bawdekin, with ''birds of flour in gold," and
of red silk with green branches and white flowers, powdered with swans of gold
between the branches ; copes, streamers, and mitres, for the boy-bishop and his
followers " at Saint Nicholas tide." How inadequate, after all, are the most
glowing descriptions of our romancists to convey to us a sufficient idea of the
scenes that must have been presented in our ecclesiastical buildings four or
five centuries ago !
The costs of erection of Wren's churches of course varied greatly in accordance
with their great diff'erences in plan and amount of decoration. Some Avere
built for less than 2500/., as those of St. Anne i\ldersgate Street, St. Matthew
Friday Street, and St. Nicholas Cole Abbey ; many for about 5000/. or 6000/.,
* The amice was an under garment, over which was worn first the alb like a robe or surplice, then the girdle
and stole ; the fanon or maniple was a towel held by the priest during mass ; the chasuble was a kind of smaller
cope.
192
LONDON.
amon**- which may be enumerated St, Bartholomew, St. Peter Cornhill, and St.
Edmund the King ; whilst three, St. Bride, Christ Church, and St. Lawrence
Jewry, cost nearly 12,000/., and one. Bow, above 15,400Z. In contrast with these
last four stands the most beautiful of all Wren's ecclesiastical structures, St.
Stephen's Walbrook, which was erected for 7652/. 13.y. ; a significant proof how
little the true architect's fame need depend upon the mere amount of funds at
his disposal — upon the extent of space he has to cover — the quantity of brick or
stone to pile.
[Interior of S . Stopliea's, Walbrook.
i
[St. Mary's, Southwaik.]
CXIIL— THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
No. III. — Modern Churches.
If it were Wren's ambition to found a school of ecclesiastical architecture in
England, as well as to distinguish himself practically as an architect, he was not
only successful, but lived long enough to enjoy that success personally in wit-
nessing the two most eminent of his successors follow in the path he had marked
out. Despising the Gothic ' crinkle crankle' as much as Wren himself, and having
as little feeling for the simple elegance of the Greek, Gibbs and Hawksmoor (the
latter Wren's pupil), went to the same sources of inspiration as the architect of
St. Paul's, namely, the works of the Italian artists, who revived the Roman
school of architecture ; but who in so doing, whilst affecting the severest strict-
ness in following its rules, sadly overlooked its spirit. The desire for the
magnificent which formed an essential part of the character of the Roman people,
and which had led them to alter, to adapt, and to extend the architectural prin-
ciples they had derived from Greece, and, in many points at least, with the most
signal success, became, too frequently, an almost insane passion with their Italian
descendants, to which all higher qualities were sacrificed, through which all per-
ception was dimmed of the elements that had combined to the construction of the
great works of antiquity, making them, at once and for ever, consummately grand
and beautiful. With what zeal were the ancient writers studied whilst the
VOL. V. O
194 LONDON.
buildings from which they had drawn their precepts were left to moulder in
unregarded oblivion, or examined only to support pre -conceived theories ! With
what precision was every feature of every order systematized, whilst the uses of
the orders were left to individual taste or caprice ! With what eloquence was the
purity of the Doric and Tuscan, and Ionic and Corinthian, expatiated upon,
whilst building after building was being erected, apparently but to show how far
and farther still corruption could be carried ! Great differences prevailed, of
course, between the architects of this class ; some of them, whilst avoiding the
worst features of debasement, were enabled through the originality of their minds
to shed a glory over their productions, that made the eye at once less capable of,
and less inclined to measure accurately the latent defects of the style : pre-emi-
nent among these was Palladio in Italy ; to their numbers also belong Inigo
Jones and Wren in England, and perhaps, though in a much more limited
deo-ree. Wren's immediate successors, the architects before mentioned. The
splendour of Palladio's reputation shows how popular the Italian-Roman style
became among his countrymen, and its introduction into England by Jones,
and more extensive diffusion as well as higher developement by Wren, was
marked by an equally brilliant reception : as well it might be, when it gave us
such works as the Banqueting House, St. Paul's, and St. Stephen's, Walbrook,
the majestic grandeur of the two first, and the strikingly harmonious combina-
tions of the last, enhanced by their being seen through the most delusive and
enchanting of all atmospheres — that of novelty. Well, two centuries have
passed since the erection of the first of these buildings, and — the style has passed
too. Of all the churches (to refer only to such works) built in London, during
its prevalence, how few are there that now possess any higher claims to notice
than those derived from their pointing the moral and adorning the tale of this
somewhat remarkable phase in the history of English architecture !
Never was time more propitious for an artistical revolution than that which
witnessed the growth of the style in question among us. With one stroke, as it
were, of the parliamentary pen, fifty new churches were ordered to be built in
consequence of the destruction caused by the fire ; and when these were erected,
and Wren had developed his views, fifty more were determined upon by the
same authority, thereby presenting a similar opportunity for the development of
the views of his successors. We refer to the Act passed in the 10th year of the
reign of Queen Anne, having for one [of its objects, to remedy the insuffi-
ciency of accommodation afforded by the churches of London and the vicinity ;
and for another, as we learn from the commission subsequently issued to
regulate the necessary proceedings, the '^ redressing the inconvenience and
growing mischiefs which resulted from the increase of Dissenters and Popery."
The expense was to be defrayed by a small duty on coals brought into the
port of London, for a certain period. We may here observe in passing, that
the intentions of this Act, as regards the number of structures to be built,
were but very imperfectly carried out. And now, as to the men who were
to avail themselves of the magnificent field opened to their exertions. James
Gibbs was born about 1674, and educated at Aberdeen, where he took the
degree of Master of Arts. In his twentieth year he visited Holland, and
entered into the service of an architect. In 1700, through the advice and
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
195
the assistance of the Earl of Mar, his countryman and patron, he went to
ily, and studied for ten years. He then returned to England, to find the
irl of Mar in the ministry, at once able and willing to obtain employment
I" him from the Church Commissioners. The first stone of St. Mary's in the
rand was laid in 1714, the steeple finished in 1717, and the whole conse-
jited in 1723. As this — the first of Gibbs's ecclesiastical structures, has
leady been noticed in our pages,* and as he greatly improved upon it in
si second, it will be sufficient here to describe the latter — St. Martin's in the
elds, the building on which Gibbs's fame chiefly rests — that fane, according
i the poet Savage, who expressed only the general opinion of his time —
I " Where God delights to dwell, and man to praise."
L Martin's was finished in 1726 at an expense of 37,000/. The chief feature
jthe exterior, the portico, needs neither description nor eulogy, it is so uni-
jrsally known and admired. How much of that admiration has been owing to our
int of familiarity with the Roman originals (the Corinthian order, the one here
|3d, we need hardly observe, was one of the results of the adaptation by Rome
r
[St. Martin's Clinich.]
* *The Strand,' No. XXXV. p. 156.
o2
196 LONDON.
of the architecture of Greece), and how much to its intrinsic merits, is not how
ever now so easy a question to decide as it once seemed. We have already learn
to feel the entire unfitness of its arched windows and doors, for the position the
occupy; and still more, the discordance between the portico and the building t
which it is attached. Could it be possible to devise windows either less beauti
ful in themselves, or more preposterously unfit for the exquisitely elegar
columns and pilasters, so lavishly bestowed over the whole edifice, than those w
see here, stretching along each side their double lines of ugliness? The steepl
again, though exceedingly stately and elegant in its form, harmonises litt
better with the classical portico ; and in the opinion of architects has anoth(
serious fault — instead of rising directly from the ground, it appears elevate
above the roof. The interior presents an arched roof, supported by Corinthia
columns, and in its general effect may deserve the commendation bestowed upo
it, as " a perfect picture of architectural beauty,"* but if you examine the detai
with a more critical eye, you are reminded in every direction of Walpole's severe
judgment, '* In all is wanting that harmonious simplicity that speaks a genius
Columns are cut by galleries which appear to have helped the artist out of
difficulty by consenting to stand without support, the entablature is broken int
bits, and the very profusion of decoration on the ceiling becomes an error, if yo
contrast it with the neighbouring parts that seem, in their comparative nakec
ness, to have been sacrificed in consequence. Although a very ancient foundatioi
and the parent of three or four others, St. Martin's has no particular featur(
of interest in its earlier history ; of the later, the most noticeable is the list
notorious or eminent persons buried within its precincts. The frail, but warnl
hearted Nell Gwynn, is among the number, who left the ringers a sum of mone
for their weekly entertainment. In the vaults under the church lies Mrs. Cen
livre, the dramatic writer, and in the churchyard Roubiliac, the great sculptcj
who died in 1762, and whose funeral was attended by Hogarth and Reynold]
C. Dibdin was interred in the burial ground belonging to this church, at Camd
Town ; a man who, had he rendered a tithe of the services actually perform
by him to the naval strength of his country, under the name of a captain instea
of that of a writer, would have died a wealthy peer, but, as it was, drew his 1
breath in poverty.
Hawksmoor commenced operations about the same time as Gibbs, and wi
his best work, St. Mary Woolnoth, which was finished in 1719. The exteri
exhibits both his faults and excellences : it has something of the heaviness whi
characterised him and his great associate in various structures (Vanbrugh), b
has also the air of magnificence that belongs to both, with something like ha
monious simplicity of decoration. The interior is sumptuously beautiful, thouj
injured, as may be seen in our view, by the pews ; the galleries also interfe
with the classical simplicity and harmony of the plan. If the Italian-Rom
school in England had advanced from works like this, instead of steadily retrej
ing as if alarmed at its own success, we should have had possibly a very differe
fate to record in connection with it in these pages. But when Hawksmoor hii
self set the example, what else was to be expected of the herd who were to folio*
* Allan Cunningh:\ni,
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
197
[Interior of St. Mary Wooliioth, I-orabard Street.]
Us next church, St. Anne's, Limehouse, finished in 1824, presents all his worst
[ualitics with scarcely any of his best; take away the indescribable circular
)orch, and the massive tower, with the equally indescribable collection of small
ibelisks placed by him upon the top, and the whole might be aptly designated
)y the word prison. The interior, on the contrar}-, is very splendid as regards
he amount of decoration, but still worse in style from the confusion of the
trders there used. If the architect had intended the minister occasionally to
^ive his congregation a lesson on architecture, we could understand the pro-
)riety of the examples of composite columns, Ionic and Corinthian pillars, and
Duscan arches scattered about ; as it is, we can but wonder that St. Anne's,
L-imehouse, and St. Mary Woolnoth, are by the same man. His next work,
5t. George's Church, was in the same neighbourhood, and, we suppose, suffered
rom the same influences, whether of locality or otherwise ; of this we can only
ay that the most effective idea about it is the octagonal lantern on the top
f the tower, which is surrounded by a series of square pillars, with round tops,
>resenting the exact appearance of so many cannons levelled against the
ky. We must not forget to add one or two of the richest points about
he erection of these buildings ; so far from treating the commissions with
eglect, as might be supposed from the unsatisfactory result, it appears that
lawksmoor was studiously imitating Vanbrugh in his designs for them ; and
etter still, that according to Malcolm, St. George's is the product of the
nited genius of the two great men, Gibbs and Hawksmoor : the estimate, he
ays, was given in their names to the Commissioners. And what may it be sup-
198 LONDON.
posed was the amount actually expended (which considerably exceeded the
estimate) ? Why, 18,557/. 3^. 3(f., or in rough terms, three thousand pounds
more than the most expensive of Wren's churches. In St. George's, Blooms-
bury, Hawksmoor made a material addition to his plans. Influenced pro-
bably by the admiration excited by Gibbs' portico to St. Martin's, he de-
termined to have one for St. George's, and, as might have reasonably been
expected, improved upon it in some points ; it displays itself, for instance,
better, from the height to which it is raised above the level of the street;
though it is considered inferior in point of execution. But what shall he
said of the heavy-looking body behind, or of the steeple, which one writer
(Walpole) calls a masterpiece of absurdity, whilst others prefer it to any
other in the metropolis, on the ground of its originality, picturesque form, and
expressiveness ? Neither the first quality nor the second can be denied ; but ilj
by expression is meant the expression of something finely appropriate, a brief
uncoloured description seems to us the best answer to the assertion. Upon the
tower, which has an expression of majestic simplicity, rises a range of unattached
Corinthian pillars and pediments, extending round the four sides of the steeple,
with a kind of double base, ornamented in the lower division with a round hole
on each side, and a curious little projecting arch at each angle : above this stage
commences a series of steps, gradually narrowing, so as to assume a pyramidal
appearance, the lowest of which are ornamented at the corners by lions and
unicorns guarding the royal arms (the former with his tail and heels frisking ir
the air), and which support at the apex, on a short column, a statue, in Romar
costume, of George I. Now the only expression apparent here to our eye, isi
that the steps do certainly answer in one way the not unnatural query of how tht
King got to so uncommon and unaccountable a position.
The other architects of the period in question, who rose into reputation oi
notice by their churches, are James, Archer, and Flitcroft. To the first we ow(
the aristocratic church of the most aristocratical of parishes, St. George's, Hanove:
Square, completed in 1724, or two years before St. Martin's ; a circumstance of som(
importance, when we consider that its portico is considered to be only surpassec
by that of the church referred to. As to the interior, not only are all thi
orders there, but more we fear than either an antique Roman or Greek would b(
willing to recognise. It is, indeed, but too evident, that, with all the architect:
we have mentioned, in all their works, St. Mary Woolnoth alone excepted, the;
have been excellent in the exact proportion in which they have been least orii
ginal: their porticoes have chiefly made the fame of Gibbs, Hawksmoor, anc
James, which, at the best, we now learn from the highest authorities, are, in al
their beauty, but imperfect imitations of their respective originals.* St. Luke's
Old Street, with its fluted obelisk for a spire, is another of James' works, erecte(
in 1732. Archer's well-known production is St. John's church, Westminstei
finished in 1728; and which, if it were possible to designate by any single phrase
it must be some such as — Architecture run mad. If one could imagine a collectio:
of all the ordinary materials of a church in the last century, with an extraordinar
profusion of decoration, of porticoes, and of towers, to have suddenly dropt dow:
* Mr. Gwilt, for instance, expressly says thus of St. Martin's, whilst acknowledging it to be the best we have.
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 199
from the skies, and, by some freak of Nature^ to have fallen into a kind of order
and harmony and fantastic grandeur, — the four towers at the angles, the porticoes
at the ends and in the front, — it would give no very exaggerated idea of St. John's.
Vanbrugh, says Pennant, had the discredit of the pile. There is something
refreshing in turning from such a specimen of originality to the soberer form and
unpretending style of St. Giles in the Fields, Avith its tall and graceful spire. It
u curious that this edifice, which has given to Flitcroft his reputation, should be
attributed, in the Report of the Church Commissioners to the House of Com-
mons, to Hawksmoor, who, they say, expended 8605/. 7s. 2d. upon it ; but there
is no doubt but Walpole, and the View, published in 1 753, are correct in ascrib-
ing it to Flitcroft, who was probably employed by Gibbs, and not by the Com-
missioners. The interior has an arched ceiling, supported by Ionic pillars, and is
more than usually chaste and beautiful. The ' Resurrection Gate,' as the entrance
at one corner of the churchyard is called, from the representation of that event
seen on its upper portion, is of older date than the church, having been executed
about 1687. The old church, to which it was then an adjunct, had in former times
many rich monuments ; one, to Sir Roger L'Estrange, the well-known loyalist
and writer, still remains. During the civil war Sir Roger had some narrow
escapes : once he was condemned to be shot as a spy, but managed to get away
from his place of confinement. Inconsistency in political writers is a spectacle
we are not altogether unfamiliar with in our own times, but this worthy Knight
has given us one of the oddest instances of the kind perhaps on record. After
the Restoration he published a newspaper, called the ^Public Intelligencer,'
in the very first number of which he thus explains his views of the nature of the
agency he was setting on foot : — '' I think," says he " it makes the multitude too
familiar with the actions and counsels of their superiors, too pragmatical and
censorious, and gives them not only an itch but a kind of colourable right and
license to be meddling with their government ;" therefore our acute logician
hastens to give the multitude a fresh opportunity. A more distinguished sharer
in the turbulent but sublime war of principles that has made the seventeenth
century for ever memorable, Andrew Marvel, was also interred here — a man, in
whose reputation the glory of the patriot has eclipsed the fine powers of the poet.
St. Giles also preserves the ashes of a truly great poet. Chapman, the trans-
lator of Homer, as well as the author of an immense amount of original writings.
One of the most curious things, perhaps, in the unwritten history of poets'
opinions of each other, is Cowper's of Chapman. He had never seen the older
poet's version till his own was far advanced, and, when he did see it, spoke of it
with supreme contempt ! This is entertaining enough now, when Chapman's
version has become almost universally recognised as that which alone gives
us the true spirit and flavour of the blind old bard. But what a world of
masterly epithets (Pope took care to borrow or imitate some of the best), of ex-
quisite lines and passages, are there in Chapman in addition ! In that point,
as well as in the other, Cowper's translation Avill not bear the comparison. Here
is one line of the numberless lines that, once heard, there is no forgetting after-
wards—
" And when the Lady of the light, the rosy -fingered Morn
Awoke," &c.
200 LONDON.
in which poetry and music are truly and indissolubly ^ married.' Another of the
illustrious has yet to be mentioned in connection with St. Giles, an artist whose
works have raised him to the very highest pinnacle of European fame as a
sculptor a man whose life was but a counterpart of his works : each illustrating
each, riaxman was buried here on the 15th of December, 1826, his body ac-
companied to the grave by the President and Council of the Royal Academy.
For once, an inscription speaks simple truth : we read here, '' John Flaxman,
R.A., P.S., whose mortal life was a constant preparation for a blessed immor-
tality : his angelic spirit returned to the Divine Giver on the 7th of December,
1826, in the seventy-second year of his age." There is a peculiarly interesting
circumstance connected with his death, told by Allan Cunningham, in his * Lives
of the British Sculptors,'* which we cannot resist the temptation of transcribing.
He says, " The winter had set in, and, as he was never a very early mover, a
stranger found him rising one morning when he called about nine o'clock. * Sir,'
said the visitant, presenting a book as he spoke, ' this work was sent to me by
the author, an Italian artist, to present to you, and at the same time to apologise
for its extraordinary dedication. In truth, sir, it was so generally believed
throughout Italy that you were dead, that my friend determined to show the
world how much he esteemed your genius, and having this book ready for pub-
lication, he has inscribed it ' Al Ombra di Flaxman.' No sooner was the book
published than the story of your death was contradicted, and the author, affected
by his mistake, which nevertheless he rejoices at, begs you will receive his work
and his apology.' Flaxman smiled, and accepted the volume with unaffected
modesty, and mentioned the circumstance, as curious, to his own family and some
of his friends." This occurred on Saturday, the 2nd of December, when he was
well and cheerful ; the next day he was taken suddenly ill with cold, and on the
7th was dead. The ground on which St. Giles's stands was formerly occupied
by a hospital, founded by Matilda, wife of Henry I., for lepers ; and it was in
front of this hospital that Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, was so savagely
burnt, during the reign of Henry V., his early friend. The phrase ' St. Giles's
Bowl ' will remind many of the custom that formerly prevailed here of giving
every malefactor on his way to Tyburn a bowl of ale, as his last worldly draught.
As to the host of other churches that arose during the same or a little later
period, it were useless to enter into any architectural details. Eternal imitations
apparent through eternal attempts at originality are their chief characteristics
where the architects had any ambition ; where they had not, their churches sank
even below contempt, built as they mostly were in a style requiring splendour of
decoration and harmonious combinations of form as its essentially redeeming
features : qualities that the masters in the school alone could give. So we shall
merely notice such of them as present any other features of moment. In St.
Botolph's, Bishopsgate Street, the architecture of which, and of an extensive
similar class, seems to us best described as of the puffy cherubim with tvings
order (so favourite a species of decoration is that feature, and so completely does
it harmonise, in its way, with all around), lies buried, with a monument preserved
from the old church. Sir Peter Paul Pindar, the inhabitant of the neighbouring
* Pca-e 359.
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 201
house in Bishopsgate Street, where we have still preserved a most rich and
unique specimen of the ancient domestic architecture of the metropolis. Sir
Peter was one of the wealthiest, and, it is pleasant to add, one of the most muni-
ficent-minded men of his time : his splendid benefactions to Old St. Paul's will,
no doubt, be recollected by our readers. Many instances of the same spirit in
lesser matters may be found in the books of the parish. One of the most amusing
is the pasty (a yearly gift apparently) which he gave to the parishioners in 1634;
we may judge of its size when we find that 19^. Id. was paid for the mere "flour,
butter, pepper, eggs, making, and baking." We may add, from the same books,
another notice to those already given in our preceding articles, of the pleasant
way in which parish affairs were formerly managed. In 1578, we find, "paid for
frankincense and flowers, when the Chancellor sate with us," 11^. In the church-
yard there is a tomb inscribed with Persian characters, of which Stow gives the
following account: "August 10, 1626. In Petty France [a part of the cemetery
unconsecrated], out of Christian burial, was buried Hodges Shaughsware, a
Persian merchant, who with his son came over with the Persian ambassador, and
was buried by his own son, who read certain prayers, and used other ceremonies,
according to the custom of their own country, morning and evening, for a whole
month after the burial ; for whom is set up, at the charge of his son, a tomb of
stone with certain Persian characters thereon : the exposition thus — This grave
is made for Hodges Shaughsware, the chiefest servant to the King of Persia for
the space of 20 years, who came from the King of Persia and died in his service.
If any Persian cometh out of that country, let him read this and a prayer for
him, the Lord receive his soul, for here lieth Maghmote Shaughsware, who was born
in the town Novoy, in Persia."* There is something affecting in the allusion to a
chance visitor from the far-distant country ; — one of those touches of nature that
make the wide world kin, — a desire on the part of the bereaved son to find
some chance — even the remotest — that his father's ashes should be hallowed
by human sympathy. In the churchyard of St. George, in the Borough, re-
built 1731, lies Bishop Bonner, who died in the neighbouring prison of the
Marshalsea in 1569, whither he was committed by Elizabeth for his refusal
to take the oath of supremacy. An anecdote is told of him, at the period of his
committal, which shows his temper in a more favourable light than his public
conduct would lead us to anticipate. On his way to the prison, one called out
"The Lord confound or else turn thy heart!" Bonner coolly replied, *' The
Lord send thee to keep thy breath to cool thy porridge." To another, who in-
sulted him on his deprivation from the episcopal rank, he could even be witty.
"Good morrow. Bishop 5'wo?2t/a??i/' was the attack: "Farewell, knave sempevy^
was the reply. Shoreditch was rebuilt about 1731 by the elder Dance; St.
Botolph's, Aldgate, originally given by the descendants of the thirteen knights
forming the Knighten Guild to the Priory of Trinity, in 1741 ; St. Mary, White-
chapel, in 1 764 ; and St. Alphage or Elphege, one of the churches that escaped
the fire, in 1777. The porch of St. Alphage, with its sculptured heads and
pointed arches, is, however, no production of the eighteenth century, but a rem-
nant of the old Elsing Priory. Among the registers of this church we find a
* Stow, * Sumy; ed. 1033, p. 173.
202 LONDON.
record of those that have certified they have been touched by his Majesty for the
evil, an occupation that must have accorded but ill with the other modes adopted
for the disposal of time by Charles II. But the number of persons thus operated
upon is not the least extraordinary part of the affair ; about forty in this one
parish in the course of a few years : multiply this by any reasonable number that
shall be thought sufficient to include all the other parishes of England in pro-
portion to their size and distance, and the product is startling. No wonder that
it became necessary to regulate such proceedings by public proclamation, or
Charles would have found that, in his willingness to affect the saint, he would be
leaving himself no time to practise the sinner. The following bears date May
18, 1664: *'His sacred Majesty having declared it to be his royal will and pur-
pose to continue the healing of his people for the evil during the month of May,
and then give over till Michaelmas next, I am commanded to give notice thereof,
that the people may not come up to the town in the interim and lose their
labour." The foundation of this church, like that of the old church at Greenwich,
was probably intended to mark the public feeling as to the memorable event
that closed the personal history of St. Elphege. At the time Canterbury was be-
sieged by the Danes under Thurkill, in 1011, he was archbishop, and distinguished
himself by the courage with which he defended that city for twenty days against
their assaults. Treachery, however, then opened the gates, and Elphege having
been made prisoner was loaded with chains, and treated with the greatest severity
in order to make him follow the example of his worthless sovereign Ethelred,
and purchase an ignominious liberty by gold. Greemvich at that time formed
the Danish head-quarters, whither the archbishop was conveyed. Here he was
tempted by the offer of a lower rate of ransom ; again and again was he urged
to yield by every kind of threat and solicitation: *'You press me in vain," was
the noble Saxon's reply ; " I am not the man to provide Christian flesh for
Pagan teeth, by robbing my poor countrymen to enrich their enemies." At last,
the patience of the Danes was worn out : so one day (the 19th of April, 1012)
they sent for him to a banquet, when their blood was inflamed by wine, and on
his appearance saluted him with tumultuous cries of " Gold ! gold ! Bishop, give
us gold, or thou shalt to-day become a public spectacle." Calm and unmoved,
Elphege gazed on the circle of infuriate men, who hemmed him in, and who
presently began to strike him with the flat sides of their battle-axes, and to fling
at him the bones and horns of the oxen, that had been slain for the feast. And
thus he would have been slowly murdered, but for one Thrum, a Danish soldier,
who had been converted by Elphege, and who now in mercy smote him with the
edge of his weapon, when he fell dead. A church was subsequently erected to
his memory over the fatal spot, and another in London — probably at the same
period — the church which led to this brief account of a very interesting historical
passage.
After the erection of such of the fifty churches as were erected, and the re-
building, as we have just seen, of some of the older ones, there was a remarkable
pause : during the long period extending from the commencement of the reign
of George HI. down almost to its close there were not (including St. Alphage
and St. Mary, Whitechapel) six churches erected in the metropolis. In an
architectural point of view this was fortunate. The Italian-Roman school had
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON. 203
been fairly put before the public, and there required time to come to a right
understanding of its comparative merits with the Gothic, which it superseded
here, and the purer Grecian and Roman schools, on which it had raised itself
at home. The general character of the numerous new churches that now meet
us on every side in the metropolis, the growth of the last twenty-five years, speaks
emphatically that the decision has been unfavourable. It was again fortunate
that after such a period the more eminent architects who assumed the responsible
position of erecting buildings that, from their very character as well as from
their metropolitan position, should always be the best the state of the art can
furnish, did not attempt originality, till they had purified their own and the public
tastes, by familiarity with the long misunderstood and misused works of antiquity.
There can be nothing more certain in art of any kind, than that every permanent
advance must be based on a thorough appreciation of the excellence that has
gone before. Invaluable, therefore, were the variety of buildings erected in the
early part of the present century, in which the Grecian orders, the Doric and
Ionic, were introduced ; though no doubt there was plenty of room for improve-
ment in the mode of the introduction. It is in this light that the beautiful
church of St. Pancras, New Road, appears with even greater interest than its
exquisite columns and doors alone could give it. This was finished in 1822; the
architects were Messrs. W. and H. Inwood, men who had evidently drunk deep
at the undefiled well of Athenian architecture. Their building is an avowed
imitation of the famous temple of Erechtheion at Athens, one of the most florid
existing specimens of the Ionic order. Here we began to learn, for the first time,
what absurdities had been committed under the shelter of great names. The doors
in the portico were now found to be an essential beauty of the latter, instead of
standing out in barbarous discrepancy with it : but then they were very different
doors from those of St. Martin's in the Fields, and St. George's, Bloomsbury, being,
at the time of their introduction, perfectly unique in England for beauty. We
now found, too, that the Greeks had been able to erect a body to their fronts, not
simply harmonising with, but so essentially forming apartof it, thatit is only won-
derful they should ever have been divided. And how perfectly beautiful that body
is, with its windows, and sculptured band, and cornice, and rich antefixaB studding
as with fret-work the line of roof, and so finely relieved against the sky ! Other
interesting features of the exterior are the two projecting porches at the eastern
extremity of the north and south sides, also imitated from a building attached to
one side only of the Athenian temple, and called the Pandrosium. This is sup-
ported by caryatidal female figures, an exceedingly striking and expressive archi-
tectural feature. The origin of the use of such figures is attributed, with great
probability of correctness, to the custom that prevailed among the Athenian
virgins, of carrying on their heads the sacred vessels used in their religious cere-
monies. In the Pandrosium there were six figures, at St. Pancras there are but
four on each range, and they form the chief exception to the general excellence
of execution visible through all the details of the church. Here is a drawing of
one of the original figures now forming a part of the invaluable treasures of the
British Museum. AVithin each porch a large sarcophagus expresses its purpose
— it is the entrance to the catacombs, which are very spacious. The steeple is
imitated from another Grecian work, the Temple of Winds, at Athens, but
204
LONDON.
[Female Caryatid Figure from the Pandrosium.]
combines happily with the other parts of the exterior. Judging by analogy
from the buildings of the last century^ where it is really surprising to
observe how seldom it was attempted to have the Within and the Without
in harmony of richness and decoration, we should be little prepared for
the interior of St. Pancras; but the all - pervading feeling of the truest
artists (with one noticeable exception in later times^ the Gothic) that the
world ever saw, is so powerfully impressed on their buildings, that beauty
prepares you for beauty, and you are never disappointed. The galleries of St.
Pancras are, of course, the same as usual — however skilfully adapted to the
building, — excrescences ; but the exquisite form of those columns that support
them, give the eye pleasanter occupation than to dwell on defects, and when we
learn their history we are not surprised : they are taken from casts of the Elgin
marbles. On the remaining features of interest in St. Pancras, the range of
verd-antique columns with bases and capitals of white marble (from the temple
of Minerva) over the communion-table, the ground-glass windows with their
I
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
205
richly- stained borders, the pulpit and reading-desk, constructed, as we are told,
out of the celebrated Fairlop Oak, our space will not permit us to dwell. From
the foregoing description our readers will be prepared to hear that the cost was
considerable, namely, 76,679/. 7s. 8d. Of the later works in the same style of
architecture, the little chapel of St. Mark, North Audley Street, finished in
1828, deserves especial commendation for its departure from the frigid common-
place imitations which most of these buildings exhibit. The chaste elegance of
the still more recently erected building here shown, needs no eulogy. It is by
Professor Hosking, of King's College.
[Trinity Chapel, Poplar.]
There is one point of view in which these revolutions of taste that mark the
present and last two centuries, appear peculiarly striking. A nation, among its
other priceless bequests to posterity, leaves a perfect system of architecture ;
that system is taken up by another great nation, men of the highest intellectual
power adapt it to their national views and habits, and add a second system
scarcely less essentially original in any practical meaning of the word, to the
world's artistical wealth. Now, is it not strange that after all the skill, learning,
enthusiasm and treasure expended in altering, adapting, or improving these two
206 LONDON.
systems, since the revival of arts and learning, that now, in the nineteenth century,
we are fain to go back (in that direction of the architectural compass) to those
systems ; nay, we seem not content to stop short with the Roman school, but, as
if the very suspicion of adulteration was enough to repel us, go on to the ulti-
mate point from which we started. And what but the same kind of movement
is taking place still more energetically with the Gothic, which lay for the same
period, under an infinitely deeper cloud? It was not simply misunderstood by
professing admirers; on the contrary, there were scarcely any who thought it
worthy of admiration. The re-action of this sentiment must be remembered,
when we look at the many, and ambitious works that have been erected in this
style of late years. But after all allowance on this score, some of these buildings
present satisfactory evidences of an approach towards a right appreciation on the
parts of their architects, of the principles of the wonderful buildings they have taken
for their model. There has been but one truly dark age in England for architecture,
and that is the period we have just emerged from : — emerged at least, if the expe-
rience of that period with regard to the improvements upon the Roman and Grecian
styles, be not thrown away upon the improvers or adapters of this with regard to
the pointed. The best security against this danger will be the general diffusion
among the people as well as among architects, of that appreciation we have referred
to. We have reason, therefore, to congratulate ourselves upon the circumstance
that so many new churches in the Gothic style have been recently built, as offering
increased facilities for the study of the latter, and still more, that in the principal
of these, purity rather than originality has been the architect's grand aim. Let
us but thoroughly understand and enjoy that or any other style, and we may
then safely attempt to advance whenever the right men are prepared to lead the
Avay. Foremost among the structures calculated to forward these views, stands
that which was also earliest in point of time in the present revival of pointed
architecture in the metropolis — we allude to the New Church at Stepney, erected
about 1822 by Mr. Walters, in an exceedingly chaste and beautiful style. This
was followed by the still more magnificent structure at Chelsea, St. Luke's, by Mr.
Savage, with a tower at the west end 142 feet in height : this building was finished
in 1824, or in the same year as that just object of universal ridicule, the church
of All Souls, with its circular advanced tower, and cone spire, in Langham Place :
a noticeable contrast. St. Katherine's, Regent's Park, consists of two portions,
the buildings for residence, which are in the old English domestic style, and the
chapel, which is pointed ; the whole however harmonise, and at the same time
express very happily the character of the pile as the home of a once religious
community. St. Katherine's forms a remarkable exception to the rule for the
dissolution of religious houses ; a good fortune which it seems to have derived
from its having been first founded by a Queen, Matilda, wife of Stephen, and
then refounded by Elinor, widow of Henry III., who made it an especial appa-
nage to the Queens of England. Philippa, wife of Edward, v/as also a great
benefactress, as we are reminded by the excellent carvings of her head and the
Kmg's, still preserved with the ancient stalls they decorate, and the very curious
old pulpit, in the chapel. There was formerly a Guild attached to St. Kathe-
rme s, dedicated to St. Barbara, of which great numbers of eminent persons were
members; from Henry VIII. and his wife downwards. In the Hospital itself.
THE CHURCHES OF LONDON.
207
Verstegan, the author of the ' Restitution of Decayed Antiquities,' was born, and
Raymond LuUy wrote his Testamentum Novissimum. Many distinguished persons
were also buried in the old church or precincts. The only monument that re-
mains is the Duke of Exeter's, 1447, with the effigies of that nobleman and his
two wives ; an interesting specimen of ancient monumental sculpture. In con-
nexion with this memorial Mr. Brayley mentions a very disgraceful circumstance
that occurred in the pulling down of the old church of St. Katherine (for the
erection of the docks to which it has given name) ; the tomb was opened and the
remains dispersed ; the head, it appears, passed into the possession of the dock-
surveyor. The establishment now consists, we believe, of a master, three brothers,
three sisters, ten bedeswomen, a registrar, high bailiff, &c. Several other modern
Gothic buildings deserve especial mention, which our space compels us to pass by ;
of two of these we give engravings, namely, St. Peter's, Bankside, 1840, here
shown, and St. Mary's, Southwark, 1842, placed at the beginning of our number.
[St. Peter's Church, Banksicli'.
St. Dunstan's in the West demands a few additional words, if it be only for its
past fame. Who does not remember its clock, and the clubmen who struck the
hours and quarters on the bell suspended between them, and the eternal crowd
of gazers on the opposite side of the street, waiting for the moment of action ?
Yet not all their popularity saved them from being turned off with contumely
at last ; fortunately there was one man of taste to appreciate them, though that
man were the late Marquis of Hertford, to whose villa in Regent's Park, we
beheve, they were removed. Old St. Dunstan's had a kind of literary reputation
also ; Mr. Brayley in his ' Londiniana,' gives us the title-pages of certain books,
published about the beginning of the seventeenth century, as ' Epigrams by
H. P,' * News from Italy of a Second Moses,' the 'Blazon of Jealousy,' &c..
208
LONDON.
which show that at least four different booksellers had shops in the churchyard,
one of them '' under the dial." The church was rebuilt about 1833, from the
desio-ns of Mr. Shaw, the architect of Christ's Hospital, who died, as we learn
from a tablet over the entrance, on the 12th day after its completion. It must
have been a satisfaction, even in the dying hour, to feel that such a work was
completed. The tower, 130 feet high, is an exceedingly picturesque composi-
tion, and the interior is no less distinguished for its general elegance of style and
richness of decoration. That the latest in point of time of the modern Gothic
structures of London, which is in fact unfinished — we allude to Christ Church,
Westminster — should also promise to be the most beautiful, may be received,
we hope, as a sign of the progress we are making in the grandest of the arts
in its grandest form.
1
[Christ Church, Westminster.]
[Principal Front of the Horse Guards.]
CXIV.— THE HORSE GUARDS.
IViTHOUT flattery, the Horse Guards may be said to "be one of the ugliest buildings
n her Majesty's service. Barracks are rarely considered models of architectural
beauty ; and it is questionable whether any barracks in the three kingdoms —
iven the monstrosity which disfigures Edinburgh Castle — can equal in ugliness
he Horse Guards. The National Gallery may be admitted to hold rivalry in
his respect with the Offices of Secretary at War and Commander-in-Chief; but
jis it was built by a British Academician, for British Academicians, what else
•ould be expected ?
I The Horse Guards — that is, the building so called in familiar conversation —
vas built about the middle of last century by Vardy, after a design by Kent.
That was a time when people in this country appear to have had a vague notion
hat there was a thing called architecture which was admired by those who under-
jitood it ; that Italian architecture, in particular, was highly esteemed ; and that
|n Italian architecture there were pavilions and cupolas, basements, and what not.'
Mich an age of ignorance and imbecility was precisely the one in which a bad
opier of indifferent prints, like Kent, might pass himself off for an architect,
ind his copies for architectural designs. In justice to Vardy, it ought to be re-
narked that his mason-work is well enough. But as for the architectural pre-
,ensions of the Horse Guards, the moss-grown buttresses of the Treasury look
jike a Melrose Abbey beside it j the Admiralty (bating the screen) and the Pay
VOL. V. P
210 LONDON.
Office are mere houses, and pretend to be nothing more, so do not offend ; and
even the pseudo-Hellenism of the Board of Trade looks respectable beside it.
How ashamed Whitehall must feel of its neighbours !
After all, the Horse Guards is but a shell : it is what is going on within it,
and the anxious hopes and fears of which it is the centre, and the wonder-working
orders that have in times past issued from it, that make us pause to regard it.
Not but that there are attractions here for the most unreflecting sight-seer.
Those two seemly troopers on their powerful chargers, who, with burnished
cuirass and carbine on knee, sit motionless as statues in the niches of the two
overo-rown sentry boxes for two hours on a stretch (they commence those
sittings at ten a.m., and are relieved every two hours, until four p.m., when
their sentry duties terminate for the day), are figures that can scarcely be
passed without attracting a glance of admiration. And there is generally a numer-
ous collection of blackguard boys, members of parliament, crossings-sweepers and
out-of-office cabmen, occupants of stools in government offices, and orange-
women — in short, of all the professional frequenters of this part of the town —
collected to watch the rather striking ceremony of changing guard. The folding
doors, in the rear of the stone sentry boxes aforesaid, are thrown open, two
cuirassed and helmeted heroes, on sleek snorting steeds that might bear a man
through a summer-day's tourney or through a red field of battle without flagging,
ride in, and, upon the philosophical principle that no two bodies can co-exist in
the same space, push the living statues already there out in front, who, each de-
scribing a semicircle, meet and ride side by side through the central gate, and so
back to their stables.
This Guard is part of the Queen's Guard, more especially so called from being
mounted within the precincts of the palace. The movements of the Queen's
Guard of the Household Brigade of Cavalry are regulated nominally by the
'^ Gold Stick in Waiting '' (that is to say, by one of the Colonels of the two regi-
ments of Life Guards and of the " Blues"), but virtually by their Lieutenant
Colonel, who is technically termed the *' Silver Stick in Waiting," and who, as
well as the Gold Stick, is relieved every alternate month. The movements of
the Queen's Guard, belonging to the Household Infantr}^ are under the super-
intendence of the '* Field Officer in Waiting," who is always on duty at the Horse
Guards. He also is on duty for a month, and relieved by the next of equal rank
in order on the roll, which commences with the Grenadiers.
The barracks in London where the Foot Guards are stationed are ; — The Wel-
lington Barracks, in the Bird-cage Walk ; the Portman Street Barracks, in
Portman Street ; the St. George's Barracks, Trafalgar Square ; St. John's Wood
Barracks ; Kensington Barracks (a small detachment) ; and a battalion in the
Tower. The cavalry barracks are at Knightsbridge and the Regent's Park.
All orders concerning all the Guards in London are given out by the field-officer
on duty at the Horse Guards. For example, should any of them be wanted on
an emergency, the Commander-in-Chief communicates with him, and he arranges
what regiment is to supply the detachment required. Of course, he makes his
election in the order of the roster.
The Guard commonly called the Queen's (or King's) Guard are — 1st. One
Captain, one Lieutenant, and one Ensio^n at the Palace of St. James's, which
THE HORSE GUARDS. 211
is considered a sort of head quarters. 2nd. One subaltern at Buckingham
House. 3rd. One Captain and two Subalterns at the Tilt Yard — for that
jname^ associated with the stately tourneys of the ages of Elizabeth and
Henry VIII., still survives, — attached to the site of the Horse Guards. The
officers in the Guards, it is well known, have rank in the army above what they
hold in their regiments ; but when on duty among themselves, the subalterns, that
jis, the Lieutenants and Ensigns, do all that appertains to those of the same
inominal rank in regiments of the line. These three Guards supply the sentinels
^stationed at Buckingham and Storey's Gates, at the various Government Offices,
Jat the entry from Spring Gardens into St. James's Park, at the Duke of York's
^Column, all round St. James's Palace, and about Buckingham House.
I The guard at St. James's is the only one that mounts always with the Queen's
[Colours. At all other guards — even guards of honour, unless it be for a crowned
head — they mount with the colours of the regiment.
LWith the most showy and ceremonious mounting of a guard in England at
St. James's Palace — with the less gorgeous but, perhaps, more imposing relief
[of the guard at the Horse Guards — with the close proximity of the Wellington
land St. George's Barracks — with the marching and countermarching of the
guards drawn from the cavalry barracks — with the marching of the infantry
from the barracks above-named to drill or inspection in Hyde Park, the precincts
of the Palace afford, of a forenoon, the most stirring military spectacle (apart
from a regular review), to be seen in the kingdom. Within and around this
■region, the Guards — foot and horse — are the characteristic features of the scene,
the real ge^ili loci — and fine-looking fellows they are. As to their accoutrements,
a uniform must be judged less as it tells upon the individual soldier than as it
tells en masse upon a large body of men. But even upon individuals, the uni-
jform of the Guards shows well. Somewhat ponderous and stiff they may be, but
that bespeaks strength and discipline. The Blues too, in their enormous jack-
boots, when seen sauntering along on foot, remind us in this of swans, or a
I kindred species of bird, that they are fine-looking creatures in their element, but
helpless out of it. They contrast, however, most favourably with the fantastic
frippery of hussars and lancer regiments. They are substantial and genuine
I English. One can imagine Marlborough and Ligonier viewing them com-
placently : they are in keeping with the athletic image of Shaw, who with his
own arm slaughtered so many Frenchmen at Waterloo.
j A soldier's is not an idle life, even in time of peace, whatever may be said to
■ the contrary. His martial duties may appear trifling to those who know not the
importance of keeping them a habit, but they consume much time and no little
I attention. Still, an officer in the Guards must, to a certain extent, be, while in
I London, a gay lounger. Plis position in society — the vicinities into which his
duties carry him — keep him in close juxta-position with the gay world, and it is
the easiest thing in nature, when he has but one spare moment, to drop into
the dissipations of fashion for that brief space. Still, in the dead season, the town
must seem a desert to him, and banishment to the Tower, a fate which he must
be prepared to encounter at regular intervals, is tedium in the extreme. But
he has his resources — the Guards' Club, and the dinners at St. James's and the
Bank.
p2
212 LONDON.
Into the former we presume not to penetrate : a gentleman's club-house is his
home^ where he is entitled to shut the door on all strangers and hint to those
admitted — '' suh rosa.'' The dinners may be said in a manner to be at John Bull's
expense, and John thinks he has a right to know how his money is spent. He
has no reason to complain on the jjresent occasion.
The subaltern at Buckingham Palace, the Captain and two Subalterns at the
Horse Guards, and the Field Officer, Captain, and Subaltern at the head guard,
dine together at St. James's. The Adjutant of the regiment which gives the guard
dines with them if he feel disposed, and the Lieutenant Colonel has the privilege of
inviting three friends. Any day on which he does not avail himself of this privi-
lege, he gives it up to the other officers. Not belonging to the Leg of Mutton,
or to the Noctes Ambrosianse, or to the Cervantes schools of literature, we could
at any time much more easily eat a good dinner than describe it ; the reader,
therefore, must hold us excused. The Guards' dinners at St. James's are of
ancient standing, and it is a shame that now-a-days_, when military men have be-
taken themselves to writing like their neighbours, none of their traditions have
been given to the public. It is a thousand pities Miss Burney was not a guards-
man : the records of the mess would have furnished forth much more inspiring
incidents than the Frau Schwellenberg's dinners to the Equerries, at which ''dear
little " Fanny presided as vice-bedchamber-woman. To Gilray are we indebted
for the only peep into the symposia of the Guards at St. James's with which the
public has been favoured ; and until some member of the corps takes up the pen
to show that his predecessors could talk, joke, and sing to the purpose, the corps
must be contented to be judged by that caricature.
The dinner at the Bank — but first a word of the Tower, *' whither, at certam
seasons, all the " guards are conveyed to do penance for a time for their jun-
kettings at the other end of the town. There is generally, as has already been
remarked, a battalion on duty here. The officer locally in command is called
the Governor, but his actual rank is that of Tower or Fort Major only. All
orders applying to the Tower exclusively, or as a garrison, such as parade for
divine service, &c., are given by the Fort Major ; but all other orders, such as
the actual mounting of the guard, the Bank piquet, &c., come from the Field
Officer on duty at the Horse Guards. The guard at the Tower is, as at the
Palace, an officer's guard, and so is the piquet at the Bank, to which we now
proceed.
Dinner is provided by the Bank for the officer on guard there and two friends.
A snug, plain, excellent dinner it is, brought daily from one of the best taverns
in the neighbourhood. The store which the Guards set by this dinner —
excellent though it be — speaks volumes for the ennui which broods over the
period during which they are stationed at the Tower. Some time ago a regi-
ment of the line was marched into the Tower, and the battalion of Guards
withdrawn. All the other duties of the place were gladly and unreluctantly
given up to the new-comers with the solitary exception of the inlying piquet
at the Bank. The duty might have been given up, but to relinquish the
dinner was impossible. And on this account, so long as the Tower remained
denuded of the presence of the Guards, the Bank piquet, regularly detailed from
the far West End, duly and daily threaded the crowded Strand, passed under
THE HORSE GUARDS. 213
Temple Bar, jostled along Fleet Street, scrambled up Ludgate Hill^ rounded
St. Paul's, and over Cheapside, erst the scene of tournaments, charged home to
'the Bank of England. The cynosure of attraction to the weary sub on duty —
the magnet which drew him to encounter this long and toilsome march, and
worse, the incarceration of four-and-twenty mortal hours within the walls of the
Bank, was not the ingots piled within these walls — his high spirit disdained
them; not the bright eyes of City maid or dame — these must now be sought in
the suburbs ; it was the substantial savoury fare of the City — the genuine roast
beef of Old England, and the City's ancient port, far surpassing the French
cookerv and French wines of St. James's.
But rich and substantial though the feast provided for the red-coated dragon
(as Mause Headrigg might have termed him), who guarded the golden fruit of
! their Hesperides, by the merchant princes of the Bank of England, its merits
'were heightened in the estimation of the young guardsmen by the circumstances
under which it was eaten. After a dreary banishment to the Tower for months
' — after the weariest period of that dull service, the dreary day, spent within the
I walls of the Bank — it is easy to conceive the relief felt by a young soldier as
ihis moodiness relaxed and opened under the influence of good fare and good wine,
and the chat of two favourite companions. Engagements that might have
looked common-place elsewhere, and under other circumstances, were Elysium
there and then. What a moment was that, when the hour of shutting the gates
approaching, his visitors must leave him ! The sweetest minute of the evening
— he tasted it not in the bustle of leave taking, but, like all sweets approached to
ithe mouth and withdrawn untasted, it lived for ever unchanged in remembrance.
' Such another moment is the five minutes before twelve at the St. James's dinner,
when the butler enters, and with sly unconsciousness announces the hour, and
the decanters are sent hastily round (no ^[ black bottles " there), the glasses
emptied and replenished, and a new supply ordered in — the last that can be
issued from cellarage or butlery that night.
Amid the not unpleasing but somewhat monotonous hours of the life of an officer
of the Guards on duty in London, these two dinners occupy a large space in his
imagination. They are like the holidays to which a school-boy looks forward and
backward ; great part of his year is made up of them. He dates from their
recurrence. Only one other dinner has ever held the same place in the estimation
of Guardsmen — and its place was far higher. The Duke of York, when Com-
mander-in-Chief, was frequently in the habit of dining at the Horse Guards on
those days — and they were many — when he transacted business there. On such
occasions it was his unvarying practice to invite the officer on guard to his table ;
and it has been our lot to hear a veteran who has seen much of life — from the
gay quarters of London to the plague-stricken sands of Egypt — speak-long after-
wards of these dinners as among the most pleasing recollections of his life. The
Duke of York was not, like his eldest brother, '' the first gentleman in Europe "
— he did not affect the society of wits, or shine himself in repartee — but he had
a heart, and that was felt and acknowledged by every one who came into close
connection with him. Spoiled he might be to some extent by his station — who
would not ? Grossier he might be in his tastes — it was the family failing. But
he was kind to the last, and had a strong sense of justice. As a leader in the
214 LONDON.
field, though personally brave, he did not shme ; but as Commandcr-in-Chie
as the organiser and upholder of an army in the Cabinet, England owes him
deep debt of gratitude. He was to the army what another Prince who bore th
same title was, rather more than a century earlier, to the navy.
According to Fielding, Mrs. Bonnet apologised to Amelia for inviting Serjcar
Atkinson to take a cup of tea with her, by alleging that a serjeant in the Guard
was a gentleman. The non-commissioned officers^ and, we may say at the sam
time, the privates of these regiments retain the character to the present day
Bating his plundering and torturing propensities^ Serjeant Bothwell, could h
come alive ao-ain, would not find himself out of place among them. In former days
at Angelo's Rooms, we used to think the demeanour of the Household Cavalr;
quite as gentlemanly as some individuals of higher station, with whom they conde
scended to play at single-stick, and in the Fives Court the fancy Guardsmen wer<
decidedly more gentlemanly than the pugilistic amateurs of rank. The Britisl
soldier of our days — and this rem.ark is general, applicable to the whole army — ij
not a mere ignoramus. The regimental libraries have worked a wonderful change
We remember few more pleasant half-hours than one we spent in Mr. Constable'jj
Miscellany warehouse in Edinburgh, listening to the comments of a committee o|
non-commissioned officers^ from a regiment stationed at Piershill Barracks, who
had come to town to choose some additions to their library. A higher and more
uniform tone pervades the ranks now than used to be the case. It is a gross
mistake to imagine the British soldier the mere machine some Gallicised writers
have been pleased to represent him. There lurks a great deal of fallacy in whatj
is said about the deterioration of the British soldier under " the cold shade ofj
aristocracy." There are men by nature formed to take the direction, and others!
equally formed by nature to work out directions given to them. In the rudestj
state of society each class finds in time its proper place. Organised, civilised!
society is merely a condition in which the combination of two such different!
classes has long been recognised, and in which the persons qualified to belong to!
either drop into their places at once. A person born with capacity for command!
will, in ordinary circumstances, either enter the army as an officer, or, if he can- \
not accomplish this, choose somie other profession. There is nothing necessarily |
low or mean in occupying the subordinate station. On the contrary, there are
qualities required to enable a man to fill a subordinate station with perfect
efficiency, v»'hich, from the rarity of their occurrence, in a high degree lend an
extraordinary value to them when they do occur. It is much more easy to fill a
regiment with passable ensigns, lieutenants, and captains, than with good efficient
non-commissioned officers. Thi^ is felt by the best commanding officers, and
such men are valued in proportion. Consciousness of their own worth, inspiring
a just pride in belonging to their class, makes them a kind of natural aristo-
cracy. The good soldier is not without a legitimate field of ambition, and the
peculiar character of this field makes better soldiers than the vague dreaming
prospect of becoming a Junot. Steele, in one of the best of his Tatlers, illustrates
the high spirit and honourable ambition of the British serjeant : Farquhar's Kite
(an irregular man of genius) was even then the exception, not the rule. The
privates and non-commissioned officers of the Guards share this honest ambition
with the regiments of the line, and, with all due deference to the latter, their
I THE HORSE GUARDS. 215
position as appendages to royalty gives them what Dr. O'Toole might call, the
f htop polish." Mrs. Bennet was right : a Serjeant in the Guards is a gentleman,
and she at least proved the sincerity of her opinion by taking the serjeant for a
husband and becoming Mrs. Atkinson.
But some people will have it that the Guards, one and all, are mere pampered
loungers. Did they show themselves such at Waterloo ? The truth is, that
isoldiers, like race-horses and fighting- cocks, are the better for being high fed and
Avell dressed, or curry-combed. There is no greater delusion than that constant
hard work and privation strengthen men against hardships. There is a certain
Hmited time, during which human powers of exertion and endurance can be
taxed without breaking down ; and the better condition a man is in at starting,
the longer he will hold out. The morale, too, as Buonaparte used to say, is
nine-tenths of the soldiers' strength; and the morale of ill-fed, over-toiled men is
always bad. There is a buoyancy of spirit about those who rush straightway
from good, even luxurious, quarters to the field, that effects even more than their
brawny frames. "But Hannibal's army at Capua ! " Fudge ! The poor rascals
{were half rotten with toil and famine, and killed or sickened themselves by repletion.
I It was sheer good eating that carried the Guards rough-shod over Napoleon's crack
Cuirassiers — red cloth and roast-beef, against steel cuirass and soupe-maigre, car-
ried the day. All Continental soldiers, who have ever measured bayonet or sabre
with the British, know that it is impossible to withstand the charge of our well-
fed men and horses. It has often made us laugh to hear our German military
friends — brave, judicious men — arguing that English soldiers were too high-fed :
it was impossible to keep either brute — the man or the beast — in hand. German
troopers, and their steeds, were fed up to the right pitch — could be exercised
among eggs without breaking one. They knew all the while that this martinet
dexterity would be shivered in pieces the moment it came in contact with the
ungovernable strength they affected to undervalue. This is the reason wh}^, from
the club-houses and saloons of St. James's, and from the Fives' Court and other
places of more equivocal resort, men and ofiicers of the Guards — men who had
never seen a shot fired in anger — rushed straight to Waterloo and rode resist-
less over the tough veterans of a hundred fights. " Gallant Frenchmen," the
heroes of old " Nulli Secundus " might have said, '' not by us, but by our cook-
shops, have ye been vanquished! '*
Enough of this. But as the building we have now in hand is one of those of
which " least said is soonest mended," we have preferred talking about its live
stock. Its halls are occupied by persons who think themselves of more conse-
quence, and might take it amiss if they were altogether passed over in silence.
Here are the offices of the Commander-in-Chief, the Military Secretary, the
Quarter-Master- General, and Secretary at War; in other words, here is the
*' local habitation " of those who wield the gallant army of Great Britain.
Some time ago — a propos of the Admiralty — we had occasion to point out the
admirable systematic arrangements which lurked under its apparent want of
system. Looking to the Horse Guards, we fear it must be admitted that the
want of centralised authority is in the case of the army carried to an extreme-
The army is an engine not yet so well understood and appreciated in England as
the navy. It is younger by a good many years. The Guards of Charles II.
216 LONDON.
and James II., that is to say, the " Blues/' no more deserve the natnei
of an army than the "Ironsides" of Old Noll. We have reghnents whichi
date from before the Revolution, but no army. The army is not only oil
modern growth when compared with the nav}^ but it differs from that sturdyi
indigenous plant in being an acclimatised exotic. They were foreign mon-i
archs — one Dutch and two Hanoverian kings — who made our army, and theyi
made it after foreign models. Raw materials for an army of the best quality
are, and always have been, abundant in this country, but these foreign artists
were the first to work them 'up. And as, unfortunately for the art of war, this
country has afforded few opportunities of experimental study since we had an
army, most of our great soldiers have been obliged to practise on the Continent.
The theory and practice of modern warfare has been developed by Frenchmen,
Germans, and Italians. Our army is like our school of painting, — at this moment
equal, if not superior, to any in Europe, but not of so natural a growth as in the
continental states. Down to the beginning of the reign of George III., our great
officers were as foreign as the cut of their uniforms. In short, the real British
army is scarcely so old as its very modern head-quarters ; for the Ligoniers and
Marquis of Granbys, who dated their general-orders from Knightsbridge Bar-
racks,* we look upon as Hanoverian officers. Abercromby, with whom soldiers
now alive have shaken hands, was trained in this school ; he studied law and the
humanities at Leipzig, and tactics (experimentally) in the Seven Years' War.
This has been the main cause of scattering the fragments of military manage-
ment through so many different departments of state, and producing such a con-
fusion and contest of authorities as we shall now attempt to illustrate. The King
and Parliament were always scrambling for the management of the army, and
with every new department added to make it more efficient, there was a toss up
for which should have the control of it.
The Commander-in-Chief and the Master-General of the Ordnance have im-
mediate and independent management of their respective portions of the armed
force of the country. But, in addition to them, no less than six different depart-
ments of government have various duties committed to them connected with the
administration of military affairs. These are : — 1st, the Secretaries of State,
more particularly the Secretaries for the Colonial and Home Departments;
2nd, the Secretary at War ; 3rd, the Board of Ordnance ; 4th, the Commissariat
department of the Treasury ; 5th, the Board of Audit ; 6th, the Commissioners
of Chelsea Hospital. We shall endeavour to point out as briefly as possible the
peculiar functions of each of those classes of authorities, and the means by which
so many heterogeneous and independent functionaries are brought to work
together with something like harmony and effect.
The point of view from which we must set out, and which, in order to thread
our w^ay through this labyrinth, we must keep constantly in mind, is, that the
army belongs to the King. Parliament gives it to him, or rather, it every year
gives him the means of maintaining it for a year, but here the power and right
of Parliament to interfere with the management of the army stops. The whole
* Not the barracks now known by that name, but the building at the opposite end of Knightsbridge, on the
opposite side of the road, now effectually screened from public view by Mr. Dunn's Chinese exhibition on one
side and a new church on the other.
THE HORSE GUARDS. 217
power and control over the army is vested in the Crown — that is, more especially
since the Revolution settlement of 1688 — in the King's government, represented
in the Cabinet by the Secretaries of State. It is scarcely necessary, except for
the sake of distinctness, to remind the reader that there was originally only
one Secretary of State; and that though convenience first introduced
the custom of having one Secretary who confined his attention exclusively
to foreign, and another who confined himself to home affairs — and althouo-h
in 1758 a third Secretary, for the colonies, was appointed, to divide the labour
and responsibility, yet still, most of the functions of Secretary of State may be,
and occasionally are, exercised indifferently by any one of the three. In point of
fact, however, the Secretary for Foreign Affairs never meddles with the war
department — that is left to the Home and Colonial Secretaries. The military
administration of the nation in all its political bearings is, in reality, vested in
these two ministers. The Secretary of State for the Home Department has
the control and management of all the militia and yeomanry, as well as the dis-
posal of the troops of the line at home, and the Guards. According to the
necessities of the service, he orders the army to be moved into a disturbed dis-
trict ; he conveys his orders through the Quarter-Master- General to the general
officers who are immediately under his guidance ; he informs them how they are
to act in conjunction with the magistracy, not only in cases of disturbances, but
under any cases that may arise. He directs, through the instrumentality of the
Master- General of the Ordnance, forts to be built on the coast in time of war, or
barracks in disturbed districts. The Secretary of State for the War department
and Colonies has the command of the army abroad. In these weak piping times
of peace he not only orders what proportion of troops shall be sent to each colony,
but he approves of the appointment of the general officer who is to command
them ; in short, he has the control over the army for all purposes of State policy.
He may order a fort or battery to be built in any colony in consequence of its
disturbed or exposed state. The offices of these wielders of the destinies of
armies must be sought not here, but in Downing Street.
The administration of the army under the Secretaries of State, or the Crown,
whose representatives these ministers are, is entrusted to executive officers who
are appointed to^ and receive their orders directly from, the King or his Secre-
taries. The finance of the army is kept rigidly separated from its discipline and
promotion : the financial arrangements are the business of the Secretary at War ;
the discipline and promotion, of the Commander-in-Chief as regards the House-
hold Brigade, Cavalry and Line, and of the Master- General of the Ordnance.
Two of these demi-gods of the army exercise their functions here.
The financial arrangements of the army, as a system, the exclusive control over
the public money voted for military purposes, rests with the Secretary at War,
who transacts business at the Horse Guards. The office was established in 1666.
Mr. Locke, the First Secretary at War, appointed in that year, was an officer de-
tached from the Secretary of State's office. The Secretary at War has access to
the Sovereign, and takes his orders from his Majesty direct. He prepares and
submits the army estimates, and the annual mutiny bill to Parliament, and
frames the articles of war. The expenditure of sums granted by Parliament for
the exigencies of the army takes place by warrants on the Paymaster General,
218 ' LONDON.
signed by the Secretary at War. In every regiment there is a paymaster not
appointed by, nor under the control of the Commander-in-Chief, bat under the
control of the Secretary at War. The accounts of the regimental paymasters,
and of other officers charged with the payment of other branches of the service,
are examined and audited in the War Office. The insertion of all military ap-
pointments and promotions in the ' Gazette' pass through the Secretary at War,
because they involve a pecuniary outlay, and he is the channel for obtaining the
authority of the Secretary of State for issues of arms by the Ordnance when
required by the military authorities. In concert with the Commander-in-Chief,
and with consent of the Treasury, he may from time to time make alterations in
the rates of pay, half-pay, allowances and pensions. By ancient usage the
Secretary at War, aided by the Judge-Advocate-General, is, in the House of
Commons, the mouth-piece of the Government to sustain any attack that may be
made on the Commander-in-Chief or his office.
The Commander-in-Chief has his office at the Horse Guards also. He, too,
has access to the King, and may either receive orders direct from him or from the
Secretary of State. He has always been held a simply executive, not a ministerial
officer; for the officers of the army are extremely anxious to have nothing to do
with the handling of monej^ The business of the Commander-in-Chief's office is
dispatched by an Adjutant-General and a Quarter-Master-General, with their
subordinate functionaries. Both of these officers are appointed by the King on
the recommendation of the Commander-in-Chief. The Adjutant- General has
under him a Deputy Adjutant General, an Assistant and a Deputy Assistant
Adjutant- General, appointed also by the King, and a number of clerks, mes-
sengers, &c. appointed by himself. Everything relating to the effective or
non-effective state of the troops ; to formation, instruction and discipline ; to the
direction and inspection of the clothing and accoutrements of the army ; to
recruitments, leaves of absence ; to the employment of officers of the staff; and
to ordinary or extraordinary returns relative to other matters, falls under his
department. All regulations and instructions to the army are published through
this officer by direction of the Commander-in-Chief. The Adjutant- General
prepares monthly, for the King and Commander in Chief, returns of the troops
stationed in Great Britain or Ireland, and of the home and foreign force. The
principal duties of the Quarter-Master-General are, to prescribe routes and
marches, to regulate the embarkation and disembarkation of troops, to provide
quarters for them, to mark out ground proper for encampments, to execute mili-
tary surveys, and to prepare plans and arrange dispositions for the defence of a
territory, whether such defence is to be effected by the troops alone or by means
of field-works. Attached to the office of Quarter-Mastcr-General of the Forces
is a board of topography, with a depot of maps, plans, and a library con-
taining the best military works that have been published in different countries.
Every British army, when in the field, has a special Quarter- Master- General and
staff, organised in exact analogy with that of the permanent officer at the Horse
Guards.
We must now turn our steps towards Pall Mall, and visit the Ordnance Office,
in order to prosecute our analysis of the composite organisation of the British
army. The Master-General of the Ordnance stands in the same relation to the
THE HORSE GUARDS. 219
King and Secretaries of State, in his department, as the Commander-in-Chief.
Like that officer and the Secretary at War, he has access to the Sovereign, and
takes his orders direct from the King or his Secretaries of State. This is a very
complicated department : it combines within itself both civil and military func-
tions, which are not separated as in the army of the line, and has moreover taken
on its hands since the peace a great number of other departments. This com-
plexity is in a great measure unavoidable, for the Ordnance combines scientific
with mere professional services. The Master-General, however, directs person-
ally, and without the assistance of the Board, all those matters which, in the case
of the rest of the army, come w^ithin the province of the Commander-in-Chief.
All military appointments, all questions of discipline and orders relating to the
employment of the force come under this description ; and likewise the general
direction and government of the Military Academy at Woolwich. The Master-
General of the Ordnance has the title and powers of Colonel of what is called
the ** regiment " of Artillery — absurdly enough, for the body is increased in
time of war to 24,000 men. An ofhcer with the title of Deputy Adjutant
General of Artillery, who is in no way dependent on the Adjutant General of the
British forces, is at the head of the Artillery Staff. The Board of the Deputy
Adjutant General of Artillery is at Woolwich; which may be considered as the
head-quarters of this arm of the service. The Royal Artillery corps consists of
the Brigade of Horse Artillery and of the Artillery serving on foot. The Rocket
corps is attached to, and forms part of the Artillery ; as also the Artificers, and
the Royal Waggon Train. There was formerly a corps of Drivers : but the men
are now always enlisted as *' Gunners and Drivers," and made to do duty in both
capacities. As the army of the line was developed under the auspices of the
Dutch and Hanoverian Kings of England— squabbling all the while with a jea-
lous and niggardly Parliament — from the few regiments of Guards maintained
by the last Stuarts (or engrafted upon them, if the readers think the metaphor
more just) ; so the Ordnance department has, in due course of time, been, after
the same fashion, eked out from the old Artillery Companies of Queen Bess and
other antique Sovereigns. Perhaps, however, the Worshipful Artillery Com-
pany of the City of London may claim to be the legitimate descendant and repre-
sentative of the body commanded by the Earl of Essex in 1596. The first warrant
fixing the constitution of the Ordnance is that of Charles IL (20th July, 1683),
only five years previous to the Revolution.
The corps subject to the Ordnance are the "Regiment," already described, and
the Engineers. The books of the Artillery show the number of battalions and com-
panies in each battalion from the year 1710 to the present time. There are, we
believe, no authentic documents to show how long the Royal Engineers have existed
as a separate corps, or Avhat was its original constitution; but from a warrant
dated at "our Court of St. James's, the 3rd day of March, 1759," the origin of its
present organisation may be inferred. The document runs thus : — "His Majesty
this day took the said representation into his royal consideration, together with
the establishment of Engineers now subsisting ; and likewise the new establishment,
proposing to increase the number of Engineers to sixty-one ; and was pleased,
with advice of his Privy Council^ to approve of the said new estabblishment, &c.
220 LONDON.
* * * * and instead of all former establishments of Engineers^ which are to
cease and be discontinued for the future." The Horse Brigade — commonly
called the Horse Artillery, or Flying Artillery — only dates from 1793. The
Artillery '' Regiment " was composed, in 1710, of one battalion, divided into three
companies : the officers were a Colonel Commandant, a Colonel, two Lieutenant
Colonels, and a Major ; for each company a Captain and a First and Second Lieu-
tenant ; six Lieutenant Fireworkers, an Adjutant, Quartermaster, and Bridge-
master. The names of all the officers since 1743 have been preserved, and notes
of what became of most of them. The Engineers consisted, in 1759, of one
Chief, two Directors, four Sub-Directors, twelve Engineers in Ordinary and
twelve Extraordinary, fourteen Sub-Engineers, and sixteen Practitioners : the
names of the Engineer officers since 1783. The privates were called Military
Engineers till 1813; since that time they have been organised into a corps called
Sappers and Miners. The whole of the Engineer department is under the
Inspector- General of Fortifications. Both the civil and military engineering of
the army is entrusted to this corps. The erection and maintenance of forts and
barracks devolves upon them. There are 29 of the officers engaged in the survey
of Great Britain and Ireland. Of 201 officers, 156 were, in 1836, employed in
affairs which were partly of a military, partly of a civil character. The Engineers
are, properly speaking, a regiment of officers ; but attached to it are the com-
panies of sappers and miners, with the pontoon train, its forges, waggons, &c.,
under a major of the Brigade of Engineers.
The Board of Ordnance, enumerated as the third of those which take part in
managing the military affairs of this country, takes upon it those duties which are
more especially termed civil The Master-General attends its meetings only on
rare and very particular occasions. All its proceedings, however, are regularly
submitted in the form of minutes for his approval, and are subject to his control.
His authority is supreme in all matters, both civil and military ; and he, not the
Board, is considered responsible for the manner in which the business of the
department is managed. The three Board officers of the Ordnance are the
Surveyor-General, the Clerk of the Ordnance (at Pall Mall), and the principal
Storekeeper. Sometimes the whole of these officers — uniformly the Clerk —
contrive to be in Parliament, and act as the mouth-pieces of this arm of the
service. Upon the Clerk devolves the duty of preparing and carrying the
Ordnance Estimates through Parliament. Each of these three officers has
his own separate and distinct duties ; but as all acts are done in the name
and by the authority of the Board, all important questions are brought before
it, and every member is expected to have a general knowledge of the business
transacted in every separate division. The business of the Board compre-
hends, with regard to the Ordnance corps, the greater part of the business
which, as relates to the rest of the army, is transacted in the War Office ;
for example, the examination of pay-lists and accounts, the decision of all
claims by officers to pensions for wounds, to compensation for the loss of horses
or baggage, to command-money, and to allowance for passages, or in lieu
of lodgings and servants. But by far the greater part of the duties of the
Board have reference to matters not merely concerning their own particular
THE HORSE GUARDS. 221
branch of the military service, but the whole army, and even the navy. Arms,
ammunition, and military stores of every description (including guns and car-
riages for the navy), are supplied by them to both services. Besides the clothing
of the artillery and engineers, they furnish also that of part of the militia, of the
police force in Ireland, and of some corps belonging to the army, and the great
coats for all ; they are likewise charged with the issue of various kinds of sup-
plies, as of fuel, light, &c., both in Great Britain and abroad, and, with respect
to the troops in Great Britain, of provision and forage. The construction and
repair of fortifications, military works, and barracks, is another branch of the
business of the department ; which has also the duty, altogether unconnected
with any thing of a military character, of furnishing various descriptions of stores
for the use of the convict establishment in the penal colonies.
The Commissariat officers on foreign stations correspond directly with the
Treasury, and receive from it all orders with reference to the mode in which the
service is to be performed. Till 1834 (when the duty Avas transferred to the
Ordnance) the charge of the issue of forage and provisions to the troops in Great
Britain was retained by the Treasury. Since that time the Agent for Commis-
sariat supplies has been suppressed, and the number of clerks on the Commis-
sariat establishment reduced. The Commissariat is a peculiar and important
service, requiring great ability and much experience. During the whole time
consumed by the British army in advancing from the frontiers of Portugal to the
Pyrenees, the Commissariat officers had to feed daily 80,000 men and 20,000
horses. The money raised by the Commissariat department in specie, in silver
and gold, in Spain and Portugal during the Peninsular war, by bills on this
country, amounted to somewhere about 36,000,000/. sterling ; and probably
10,000,000/. more was sent from England, and as much from the Mediterranean
and other quarters. The justice and wisdom of the paltry economy of throwing
part of the duties of this department upon the Ordnance, whose functions were
already sufficiently onerous and complicated, and upon a reduced Board of quill-
driving Treasury clerks who had no experience outside of their office, may well
be doubted. But there can be no doubt as to the gross injustice of throwing all
the able and experienced Commissariat officers, trained in the arduous affairs of
the Peninsula, upon half-pay, instead of remodelling the Commissariat depart-
ment by placing some of them at the head of it. A system might thus have
been organised by men who had been taught their business experimentally, in a
school such as it is to be hoped no individuals may for many generations have a
chance of entering. An opportunity has been let slip of perfecting this branch
of the service which will be felt as soon as Britain is again dared to the field,
for the gift of military financiering does not come by nature.
Since the abolition of the Comptrollers of Army Accounts, the Commissioners
of Audit, in addition to their former duty of auditing the accounts of a part of
the expenditure of the Commissioners for the service of the army on every foreign
station, have also acted as advisers to the Treasury in military business in
general, and particularly in all that relates to the Commissariat. Properly
speaking, the Commissariat and Audit Board are both branches of the Treasury.
This may be the most proper place to notice that by the Act 5 and 6 of William
IV. the separate offices of Paymaster of the Forces, Treasurer of Chelsea Hos-
222 LONDON. 1
pital, Treasurer of the Navy, and Treasurer of the Ordnance, are all consolidatedj
into the one office of Paymaster General. This office is also immediately undeij
the control of the Treasury. I
Lastly, the Commissioners of Chelsea Hospital are charged with the manage-|
ment of the internal affairs of the hospital, with the admission of in-pensioners,!
the placing of discharged soldiers on the out-pension, and the issuing of war-|
rants for payment of their pensions. Their proceedings are governed by the
patent by which they are appointed, the instructions consequent thereon prepared
by the Secretary at War, by various Acts of Parliament regulating particular
points, and by occasional instructions conveyed to them by the Treasury and by
the Secretary at War.
Amid all this scattering of military business through a number of departments,
it is clear that the authorities at the Horse Guards — the Secretary at War and
the Commander-in-Chief — remain the nucleus, the heart of the military organisa-
tion of Great Britain. Independent though the Master of the Ordnance be, his
arm is regarded but as an auxiliary, an adjunct to the army of the line. This
manner of viewing it is carried to an extreme which occasions gross injustice to
the corps of Artillery and Engineers. The best commanders of France — Napo-
leon himself — were bred in the Artillery. An English Artillery or Engineer
officer cannot look forward to command in the field. " I look upon the Artillery,'*
said Sir Augustus Eraser, in 1833, "to be a neglected service, and I know that
it is so considered by the officers themselves. I look upon it that no corps that
is solely advanced by seniorities and death-vacancies can come to perfection.
When you have men of ability, the ability is locked up ; when they have no ability
they go on with the stream. The officers are all well educated, but to little pur-
pose ; and assuredly the state of the Artillery will force itself upon the country
sooner or later. / have been forty years in the Artilleryy and have got to he a
Colonely and I could go down a hundred men in the regiment without coming to any
man much younger than myself^ What Sir Augustus thought would be doing
justice to his corps appeared from his replies to three questions of the Commis-
sioners on the civil administration of the army in 1833: ^' Officers of Artillery
and Engineers are very seldom appointed to command garrisons or districts.'*
'* Putting them upon the staff has been discouraged.'* '' I am sure that a door
might be opened for Artillery officers to go into the army with great advantage
to the service and themselves." The best heads and the best educated intellects
in the service are prevented from rising to command — that is not wise.
But this is a digression. * The Horse Guards is the centre of vitality of an
army. This army consists of: — Cavalry : The first and second regiments of Life
Guards, the royal regiment of the Horse Guards (blues),' seven regiments of
Dragoon Guards, three of Dragoons, nine of Light Dragoons, including Lancers
and Hussars. In this enumeration the cavalry serving in India and the Cape corps
of mounted riflemen are not included. Infantry : Three regiments of Guards,
seventy-nine regiments of the line of one battalion each, the ^60th (of the line)
and the rifle brigade of two battalions each, two West India regiments, two com-
panies of the royal staff corps, three Newfoundland and three royal veteran
companies, the African corps, and the Ceylon regiment. To these fall to be
added the Engineers and the Artillery, with the royal waggon-train, the arti-
THE HORSE GUARDS. 223
ficers, the rocket corps, and the sappers and miners. The infantry and cavalry
borne on the estimates of 1841 amounted to 80,738 officers and men, of whom
79,798 were effectives. The engineer corps amounted to 960 officers and men,
and the artillery to 7051.
This is, after all, but the skeleton of the army — the dry bones — the framework
which gives it form and cohesion. The quivering flesh and bounding blood
which renders it an object beautiful to look upon — the living spirit which lends
it life and energy — are diffused through thousands of manly bosoms scattered
over the whole globe. Some are chafing in compulsory idleness among the
country towns, or manufacturing capitals of the old island ; some are doing duty
amid the sharp gales of Canada, amid the sweltering tropical heat of the Antilles,
or in the anomalous land of kangaroos and convicts. Some have just been bear-
ing the standard of their country in triumph into the very bowels of " the central
flowery land," while others have been sharing in the alternate defeats and
triumphs of the mountain-land of the Afghans. Rather than remain inactive,
some of the more ardent spirits have been exploring or taking part in the frays of
Persia and Turkistan, and of the rather more barbarous Christian republics of
South America. There is scarcely a region of the earth in our day that has not
seen a real line captain — that rare animal which excited such a sensation when it
made its unexpected appearance at Charlie's Hope, in the person of Dandy Din-
mont's deliverer. And a talisman is placed within these shabby tasteless walls
— right under that ineffable cupola — of power to arrest at once the Avandering
propensities of the most distant of those fearless spirits, and call him home as
tame as the sportsman's pointer when ordered to heel, or to send him forth again
fiercer than sleuth-hound lancing on his prey.
It is a strange thing, that military discipline, which fuses so many of a nation's
fiercest and most wayward spirits as it were into one mind and one will ! The
armies of modern Europe have no parallel in any other age or region. Individual
armies were formed by Alexander, by Baber, by Timur, and other conquerors ;
but they dissolved with the death of the master-spirit which called them together.
But the armies of France, England, and Germany have an organic life independent
of any individual : all of them are enduring as the civil institutions upon which
they are engrafted. The army of France survived the dissolution of these insti-
tutions, and was all that was left to re-construct civil society after the Revolution.
It is a fashion with those who have not thoroughly examined the matter, to speak
lightly of an army's discipline and organisation, and to exalt what they call
the irresistible enthusiasm of a people. It was not the people who repelled the
Allied Sovereign, under the Duke of Brunswick from the French frontier, and
carried the eagles of France in triumph over great part of Europe ; it was not
the people who struck down Napoleon in the red field of Leipzig. Popular en-
thusiasm gave a new stimulus to the army, but it w^as the traditional discipline
and organisation inherited from Turenne, Montecuculi, Marlborough, Frederic
the Great, and other masters of the art of war, which received the unformed ma-
terials of enthusiastic recruits, and in its hard press stamped them into heroes.
An organised army upon modern principles can make soldiers of almost any
materials; and the mightiest enthusiasm of individuals or nations is at best but
224
LONDON.
the heavy wave which must break on the rock-like structure of an army, and fall i
back in foam, carrying with it at most some shattered fragments.
A finer army, whether we regard its physical or moral qualities, never existed !
than our own at the present moment. Its services as a bulwark against aggres-
sion from without in time of war, or as an effective minister of the civil power in '
internal emergencies in time of peace, are invaluable. Higher scientific acquire-
ments than exist among its - corps du genie- are not to be found ; a more in- i
telhgent, moral, high-spirited, and lighthearted soldiery never made a monarch's I
heart high as she passed her eyes along their ranks. And where shall we look '
for such a wiry, wary master of his art to hold this beautiful but terrible power
m hand as the present occupant of the Horse Guards?
[Talk Front of the Horse Guards.]
/<^^^^>^
[Dunton.]
CXV.— THE OLD LONDON BOOKSELLERS.
Thought — Speech — Writing — Printing — these arc, as it were, four successive de-
velopments of mind, each ascending in about the same degree beyond the other.
Much as in Milton's similitude —
" Thus from the root
^ Springs hghtly the green stalk [or talk] — from thence the leaves \
More airy — last the bright consummate flower."
Not, indeed, that any particular copy of a printed book, bound and lettered, much
resembles a flower : — we must endeavour to conceive a printed book in the ab-
stract, as Crambe did a Lord Mayor without horse, gown, and gold chain, or even
stature, features, colour, hands, feet, or body. In this sense a printed book is
really " the bright consummate flower" of thought.
Here, however, our business is not with either books or booksellers in the
abstract, but with the latter in humble concrete, or in flesh and blood. Al-
though books were written, and to a certain extent published too, by copies
of them being made by transcribers, before the invention of printing, yet it may
safely be assumed that it was not till after the introduction of that art that the
sale of them became a regular trade in England. In the height to which even
literary civilization had grown in the ancient world of Greece and Rome, there
were shops for books probably in all the considerable towns ; and in modern
Europe, in the middle ages, Bibles, and also other books, were sold at the fairs
in many of the principal cities of the Continent ; but these were rather general
than local marts ; indeed, literature then, when books for the most part were
written in Latin, the common tongue of the learned in all countries, was Euro-
pean, rather than national, everywhere ; the manufacture or sale of books on a
large scale could only be carried on at the great central points of attraction and
confluence; England^ being out of the way of common resort, could scarcely
VOL. v. Q
\
226 LONDON.
maintain anything of the kind. The purchase of a book here seems to have been
merely an occasional transaction, like the purchase of a house ; and the few books
that were produced with a view to being sold were mostly prepared in the mo
nasteries, as well as probably purchased only by those establishments. Perhaps
the first books that got to any extent into the hands of the people in England
(and even their dispersion must have been but to a very limited extent) were the
religious treatises of the reformer Wycliife, and some of his followers, in the
fourteenth century. But, still, there is no mention of book-shops in London, we
believe, till long after this date. Fitz- Stephen, of course, has no notice of any
in his Description, written in the latter part of the twelfth century, in which he
celebrates with so much gusto the wine-shops, the cook-shops, the fish-shops, the
poultry-shops, the horse-markets, &c., of " the most noble city ;" and Dan John
Lydgate's ballad of ' London, Lyckpenny,' which belongs to the fifteenth century,
is equally silent as to the existence of any storehouses of food or furniture for the
mind, while commemorating the activity and vociferation of the dealers in all|
other kinds of commodities.
Bookselling, no doubt, came in among us with printing ; and, probably, our
first printers were also our first booksellers. Memorable old William Caxton,
who set up his press in the Almonry at Westminster, in the year 1474, not
only himself sold the books he printed, but even wrote many of them : he wasi
author, printer, and publisher, all in one. It was not long, however, before
the merchandize in books, as in other commodities in extensive demand, cameji
to be carried on by a class of persons distinct from both the intellectual and the
mechanical manufacturers of the article.
The Stationers' Company was incorporated in 1557, in the reign of Philip and
Mary, and comprehends stationers, booksellers, letter-founders, printers^ and
bookbinders. The booksellers, however, have always been by far the most
numerous portion of the body, and also the most influential from other causes, as
well as from their greater number. They are, from the nature of the case, the
capitalists by whom the production of books is mainly promoted — the employers
of the printers, and to some extent of the authors also — and, as they run the risks,
so they enjoy the advantages, of that position. Accordingly, while nobody ever
heard of any influence on literature being exerted by printers, the influence of
booksellers on literature has at all times, and in all countries, been very con-l
siderable. We have the high authority of Horace for looking upon them as, int
the department of poetry at least, one of the three supreme controlling powers : —
" Mediocribus esse poetis,
Non dii, non homines, non concessere columnse" —
that is, as the words may be translated. Mediocrity in poetry is a thing not suf-
fered by gods, by men, or by booksellers. The bookseller, indeed, it is intimated!'
by the metonymy here used, judges by a rule or standard of criticism different^
from that referred to by the general public ', he applies what may be called a
pocket'XxAe to the matter \ but it may be fairly questioned if any surer or better
for ordinary occasions is to be found in Aristotle.
We have not much information about bookselling in London that is curi-
ous or interesting till we come to the middle of the seventeenth century.
It was probably not till some time after this that book-shops (in the mo-
I;
e«
n
THE OLD LONDON BOOKSELLERS. 227
dern sense) began to rise in what is now the great centre of the trade — Pater-,
noster Row, or The Row, as it is styled by way of eminence (and also perhaps
to get rid of an inconveniently polysyllabic designation). They seem to have been
only beginning to make their appearance when Strype produced his edition of
I Stow, in 1720. ''This street," we are told by Strype, in his solemn fashion of
speech, '' before the Fire of London, was taken up by eminent mercers, silkmen,
and lacemen ; and their shops were so resorted unto by the nobility and gentry,
in their coaches, that oft times the street was so stopped up that there was no
passage for foot passengers. But since the said fire, those eminent tradesmen
have settled themselves in several other parts, especially in Covent Garden, in
Bedford Street, Henrietta Street, and King Street. And the inhabitants in this
street are now a mixture of tradespeople, and chiefly tire-women, for the sale of
commodes, top-knots, and the like dressings for the females. There are also
many shops of mercers and silkmen ; and at the upper end some stationers, and
large warehouses for booksellers ; well situated for learned and studious men's
access thither; being more retired and private."
At the time of the Great Fire, and probably for long before, the principal
booksellers' shops were in St. Paul's Churchyard. Hither Pepys was commonly
wont to resort when he wanted either a new or an old book. Thus, on the 31st
of November, 1660, he notes, " In Paul's Churchyard I bought the play of
Henry the Fourth, and so went to the new theatre and saw it acted ; but, my
expectation being too great, it did not please me, as otherwise I believe it
would ; and my having a book, I believe, did spoil it a little." Again, on the
10th of February, 1662, we find him recording as follows: — '* To Paul's Church-
yard, and there I met with Dr. Fuller's ' England's Worthies,' the first time
that I ever saw it; and so I sat down reading in it; being much troubled that
(though he had some discourse with me about my family and arms) he says
nothing at all, nor mentions us either in Cambridgeshire or Norfolk. But I
believe, indeed, our family were never considerable." Poor Pepys! never was
inordinate vanity in any man so snubbed and checked at every movement by a
still more inveterate principle of honesty : it is like the convulsive jerking and
counter-jerking of a Supple Jack.
A few years after this, however, the booksellers were for a time driven from
this quarter by the effects of the great fire. '' By Mr. Dugdale," writes Pepys,
under date of September 26th, 1666, " I hear the great loss of books in St.
Paul's Churchyard, and at their Hall also, which they value at about 150,000/. ;
some booksellers being wholly undone, and, among others, they say, my poor
Kirton." And on the 5th of October he adds, '' Mr. Kirton's kinsman, my book-
seller, come in my way ; and so I am told by him that Mr. Kirton is utterly
undone, and made 2000/. or 3000/. worse than nothing, from being worth 7000/.
or 8000/. That the goods laid in the Churchyard fired through the windows
those in St. Faith's church ; and those, coming to the Avarehouses' doors, fired
them, and burned all the books and the pillars of the church, which is alike
pillared (which I knew not before) ; but, being not burned, they stood still. He
do believe there is above 150,000/. of books burned; all the great booksellers
almost undone ; not only them, but their warehouses at their Hall and under
Christ-church, and elsewhere, being all burned. A great want thereof there will
Q 2
228 LONDON. !
be of books, specially Latin books and foreign books; and, among others, thei
Polyglott and new Bible, which he believes will be presently worth 40/. a-piece."
Walton's, or the London Polyglott, here mentioned, is in six folio volumes, the
first of which had been published in 1654, and the fourth, fifth, and sixth in
1657. Evelyn also records the immense destruction of books by this terrible
conflagration. In his ' Diary ' he states that the magazines or stores of books
belonging to the stationers, which had been deposited for safety in the vaulted
church of St. Faith's under St. Paul's, continued to burn for a week.
The history of one of Pepys's purchases affords an instance of the extent to
which the fire raised the price of certain books. '' It is strange," he observes, on
the 20th of March, 1 667, '' how Rycaut's Discourse of Turkey, which before the
fire I was asked but 85. for, there being all but twenty-two or thereabouts burned,
I did now offer 20.?., and he demands 50s., and I think I shall give it him, though
it be only as a monument of the fire.'' Accordingly he bought the book, which
is now in the Pepysian Library at Cambridge. *^' Away to the Temple," he writes
on the 8th of April, '' to my new bookseller's ; and there I did agree for Rycaut's
late History of the Turkish Policy, which cost me 55^., whereas it was sold plain
before the late fire for 8,?., and bound and coloured as this is for 20,y. ; for I have
bought it finely bound and truly coloured all the figures, of which there was but
six books done so, whereof the King, and Duke of York, and Duke of Mon-
mouth, and Lord Arlington had four. The fifth was sold, and I have bought
the sixth."
Pepys*s new bookseller, as we see, was stationed in or near the Temple.
Westminster Hall, the other more noisy temple of the laws, was also in those
days a great place for the sale of books, and as such was frequently visited by
Pepys. " To Westminster Hall," is one of his memoranda on the 26th of Octo-
ber, 1660, " and bought, among other books, one of the Life of our Queen, which
I read at home to my wife ; but it was so sillily writ that we did nothing but
laugh at it." And if the book kept his wife and him laughing for a whole even-
ing, what more or better would he have had for his money ? They are rare
tomes of which anything so commendatory can be said. Some doubt, it is true,
may be raised by other entries if Pepys's sense of the ludicrous was the justest
in the world. Possibly he found matter of laughter where nobody else would
have seen anything of the kind, as it is certain that he would sometimes find none
in what was the richest wit and humour to other people. " To the Wardrobe,'*
he writes on the 26th of December, 1662: '" hither come Mr. Battersby ; and,
we falling into discourse of a new book of drollery in use, called Hudibras, I
would needs go find it out, and met with it at the Temple : cost me 2^. 6fi?. But,
when I come to read it, it is so silly an abuse of the Presbyter Knight going to
the wars that I am ashamed of it; and by and by, meeting at Mr. Townsend's at
dinner, I sold it to him for 18 J." But this turned out to be a precipitate pro-
ceeding. To Pepys's infinite amazement, the '' new book of drollery " con-
tinued to be the rage. ''And so,'' he tells us, under date of the 6th of February
thereafter, " to a bookseller's in the Strand, and there bought Hudibras again,
it being certainly some ill humour to be so against that which all the world cries
up to be the example of wit ; for which I am resolved once more to read him,
and see whether I can find it or no." With this praiseworthy resolution (much
1
{
i
THE OLD LONDON BOOKSELLERS. 229
""f resembling that of the ingenious individual who, not knowing how to read,
sought to cure that defect by procuring a proper pair of spectacles — one of the
most touching examples of the Pursuit of Knowledge under Difficulties) Pepys
set to work ; but we fear his success was not considerable. '' To Paul's Church-
yard," he writes in his account of his doings on the 28th of November in this
same year, '' and there looked upon the second part of Hudibras, which I buy not,
but borrow to read, to see if it be as good as the first, which the world cried so
mightily up, though it hath not a good liking in me, though I had tried but
[by?] twice or three times' reading to bring myself to think it witty." He did
buy the book, however, a few days after this. " To St. Paul's Churchyard, to
my bookseller's," is his naive and curious record on the 10th of December, "^ and
could not tell whether to lay out my money for books of pleasure, as plays, which
my nature was most earnest in; but at last, after seeing Chaucer, Dugdale's
History of Paul's, Stow's London, Gesner, History of Trent, besides Shakspeare,
Jonson, and Beaumont's plays, I at last chose Dr. Fuller's Worthies, the Cab-
bala, or Collections of Letters of State, and a little book, Delices de HoUande,
with another little book or two, all of good use or serious pleasure ; and Hudi-
bras, both parts, the book now in greatest fashion for drollery, though I cannot,
I confess, see enough where the wit lies." So he seems to have laid out his
money in this last instance in the way of duty, or of penance, rather than for
either pleasure or use. No doubt, if he found any pleasure in Hudibras, it must
have been, in his own phraseology, serious enough — entirely of the order of those
very '' calm pleasures " which the poet has coupled and by implication almost
identified with ''majestic pains." The only other mention we find of Butler's
poem in the 'Diary' is in the entry dated 11th October, 1665, where, in a notice
of an interview with Mr. Seamour, or Seymour, it is written, '' I could not but
think it odd that a parliament-man, in a serious discourse before such persons as
we [me ?], and my Lord Brouncker, and Sir John Minnes, should quote Hudibras,
as being the book I doubt he hath read most." From his thus taking it as a
sort of insult that a person should quote the book in his presence, we might
almost suspect that his ineffectual endeavours to comprehend the wit of Hudibras
had come to be a standing joke against Pepys.
On the rebuilding of the City after the fire, the booksellers, who had formerly
carried on business in St. Paul's Churchyard, or such of them as were not re-
duced to absolute ruin, seem to have generally returned to their old quarters.
Pepys's friend Kirton, however, appears never to have recovered from the losses
he sustained by that catastrophe. In Pepys's latter days, when he was probably
a larger collector than ever of rare books, the bookseller with whom he chiefly
dealt appears to have been Mr. Robert Scott. Scott was the prince of London book-
sellers in his day. It was with him, too, Roger North tells lis, that his brother Dr.
John North dealt, in laying the foundation of his library. Scott's sister was
North's grandmother's woman ; '' and, upon that acquaintance," says Roger, " he
expected, and really had from him, useful information of books and the editions."
— " This Mr. Scott," the graphic and cordial biographer goes on, '' was, in his
time, the greatest librarian in Europe ; for, besides his stock in England, he had
warehouses at Frankfort, Paris, and other places, and dealt by factors. After he was
grown old, and much worn by multiplicity of business, he began to think of his
230 LONDON. i
ease, and to leave off. Whereupon he contracted with one Mills, of St. Paul's
Churchyard, near 10,000/. deep, and articled not to open his shop any more. But
Mills, with his auctioneering, atlases, and projects, failed, whereby poor Scott lost
above half his means. But he held to hfs contract of not opening his shop, and,
when he was in London, for he had a country-house, passed most of his time at
his house amongst the rest of his books ; and his reading (for he was no mean
scholar) was the chief entertainment of his time. He was not only an expert
bookseller, but a very conscientious good man ; and, when he threw up his trade,
Europe had no small loss of him. Our doctor, at one lift, bought of him a whole
set of Greek classics, in folio, of the best editions."
Scott kept shop in Little Britain, probably in the part of that zigzag street
adjacent to Duck Lane, or, as it is now called, Duke Street, in Smithfield. This
portion of Little Britain and the whole of Duck Lane, in the latter half
of the seventeenth and the early part of the eighteenth century, were mainly
inhabited by booksellers and publishers. It was, Roger North tells us, *' a
plentiful and perpetual emporium of learned authors ; and men went thither
as to a market." ''This," he continues, ''drew to the place a mighty trade;
the rather because the shops were spacious, and the learned gladly resorted to
them, where they seldom failed to meet with agreeable conversation. And
the booksellers themselves were knowing and conversible men, with whom,
for the sake of bookish knowledge, the greatest wits were pleased to converse."
Strype, in his edition of Stow, published in 1720, describes Little Britain as
"well built, and much inhabited by booksellers, especially from the Pump to
Duck Lane;" — "which," he adds, "is also taken up by booksellers for old
books." Afterwards, he describes the part of Little Britain occupied by the
booksellers as extending from St. Bartholomew Close southward towards the
Pump, and so bending eastward to Aldersgate Street. The booksellers here, he
says, " formerly were much resorted to by learned men for Greek and Latin
books ; but now the station of such booksellers is removed into Paternoster Row
and Paul's Churchyard." Maitland, writing in 1756, tells us that the book-
sellers' part of Little Britain was then much deserted and had little trade ; and
Duck Lane he describes as "a place once noted for dealers in old books, but at
present quite forsaken by all sorts of dealers."
When Benjamin Franklin and his friend James Ralph (who also became in
after years a person of some note, making a considerable figure as a political
writer in the latter part of the reign of George II., and having besides got
himself immortalized in the 'Dunciad') came over together from Philadelphia to
London in the end of the year 1724, they took a lodging in Little Britain at
Ss.^d. per week ; "as much," says Franklin, "as we could then afford." He
has commemorated one of the dealers in old books by whom the street was then
inhabited. "While I lodged in Little Britain," he relates, "I made an ac-
quaintance with one Wilcox, a bookseller, whose shop was next door. He had
an immense collection of second-hand books. Circulating libraries were not
then in use ; but we agreed that, on certain reasonable terms (which I have now
forgotten), I might take, read, and return any of his books : this I esteemed a
great advantage, and I made as much use of it as I could."
But by far the most curious and complete account that we have of the book-
THE OLD LONDON BOOKSELLERS. 231
sellers and bookselling business of London at the beginning of the eighteenth
century is that given by the famous John Dunton in the extraordinary auto-
biographical performance which he entitles his ^Life and Errors.' Dunton,
born in 1659, was the only son of the Rev. John Dunton, rector of Graffham, in
Huntingdonshire, and as such the descendant of a line of clergymen, both his
grandfather and great-grandfather having been ministers of Little Missenden, in
Bucks. He was himself intended for the church, and with that view he was put
to school and taught Latin, which he says gave him satisfaction enough, so that
he attained to such a knowledge of the language as to be able to '' speak it
pretty well extempore;" "but," he continues, '^the difficulties of the Greek
quite broke all my resolutions; and, which was a greater disadvantage to me, I
was wounded with a silent passion for a virgin in my father's house, that un-
hinged me all at once, though I never made a discovery of the flame, and for
that reason it gave me the greater torment. This happened in my thirteenth
year." The truth is, Dunton, with prodigious intellectual activity, or rather
restlessness, never could persevere long enough with anything h^ undertook,
study, task, business, or plan of life, to make much of it. So, finding him too
mercurial for a scholar, his father determined to make a bookseller of him, and
in his fifteenth year he Avas sent up to London, and apprenticed to Mr. Thomas
Parkhurst, whom he describes as '^ the most eminent Presbyterian bookseller in
the three kingdoms." Having passed through his apprenticeship, Dunton set up
for himself as a bookseller and publisher about the year 1685. The picture he
draws of literature and its followers in London at this date is not flattering, but
it may be held to prove, at any rate, that the profession can hardly have dege-
nerated. " Printing," he says (meaning what we should now call publishing),
"was now the uppermost in my thoughts, and hackney authors began to ply me
with specimens, as earnestly, and with as much passion and concern, as the
watermen do passengers with oars and scullers. I had some acquaintance with
this generation in my apprenticeship, and had never any warm affection for
them ; in regard I always thought their great concern lay more in how much a
sheet than in any generous respect they bore to the commonwealth of learning ;
and, indeed, the learning itself of these gentlemen lies very often in as little
room as their honesty, though they will pretend to have studied for six or seven
years in the Bodleian Library, to have turned over the Fathers, and to have
read and digested the whole compass both of human and ecclesiastic history ; —
when, alas ! they have never been able to understand a single page of St.
Cyprian, and cannot tell you whether the Fathers lived before or after Christ.
And, as for their honesty, it is very remarkable : they will either persuade you
to go upon another man's copy, or steal his thought, or to abridge his book,
which should have got him bread for his lifetime. When you have engaged
them upon some project or other, they will write you off three or four sheets
perhaps ; take up three or four pounds upon an urgent occasion ; and you shall
never hear of them more." Well, there may be some rapacity here, but there
is considerable simplicity too; for surely the three or four pounds, even at the
then value of money, could scarcely have been the full price of copy for as many
sheets of letter-press. We doubt if a publisher ever now-a-days gets rid of an
author upon such easy terms.
232 LONDON.
The most saleable of all publications at this date were sermons and other re-
ligious disquisitions. The first copy or manuscript Dunton ventured to print was
a volume entitled, ' The SufFerin<^s of Christ/ by the Rev. Mr. Doolittle. '' This
book/' he says, '* fully answered my end ; for, exchanging it through the whole
trade, it furnished my shop with all sorts of books saleable at that time."
This lets us into a peculiarity in the manner in which the publishing business
was then carried on : — when a publisher, being also, as was generally or univer-
sally the case, a retail and miscellaneous bookseller, brought out a work, he dis-
posed of the copies among the trade mostly in the way of barter or exchange for
other books. This practice, it is hardly necessary to say, has long gone out.
Dunton speedily followed this first venture by two or three other publications
in the same line, all of which did well ; and this extraordinary success in his first
attempts gave him, he observes, '* an ungovernable itch to be always intriguing
that way." He now began to be plied with projects and proposals of marriage
from various quarters. Mrs. Mary Sanders, the virgin who first unhinged him
under the paternal roof, had by this time got entirely out of his head ; the beau-
tiful Rachel Seaton, the innocent Sarah Day of Ratcliffe, the religious Sarah
Briscow of Uxbridge, had all had their turn ; at last, being smitten at church by
Elizabeth Annesley, daughter of the R-ev. Dr. Annesley, a distinguished non-
conformist preacher of those times, he married that lady. Another daughter of
Dr. Annesley's, it may be noticed, married Mr. Samuel Wesley, the poet, and
became by him the mother of John Wesley, the famous founder of Methodism.
Annesley is said to have been a near relative of the Irish Annesley s. Earls of
Anglesey — and the Wesleys^ as is well known, were connected with another Eng-
lish family settled in Ireland, the Wellesleys, which has risen to much greater
distinction. It is curious what strange diversities of station and character a ge-
nealogy will sometimes bring together.
The history of Dunton's various amours, connubial and Platonic, makes up a
great part of his book ; but of course, although many of his details are abun-
dantly curious, we cannot enter upon that matter here. His first wife and he
called one another Iris and Philaret, both before and after their marriage — and
he would have us believe that they lived together in unequalled affection and
harmony. But for all that Dunton never could remain long at home : he had
been but a few years married when he set off for New England, and remained
away for nearly a year ; when he came back he found his affairs in such a state
that he thought it prudent to make a tour in Holland and Germany, in order to
be safe from his creditors ; — one of his books is an account of a visit he made to
Ireland; — he talks there of a projected expedition to Scotland; and we do not
know how much farther he extended his rambles. He defends his practice in this
respect, indeed, upon high grounds. '' Who would have thought/' he says, in his
account of the Irish tour, '* I could ever have left Eliza ? for there was an * even
thread of endearment run through all we said or did.' I may truly say, for the
fifteen years we lived together, there never passed an angry look ; but, as
kind as she was, I could not think of growing old in the confines of one city, and,
therefore, in 1686, I embarked for America, Holland, and other parts. ... To
ramble is the best way to endear a wife, and to try her love, if she has any. . .
It is true, for a wife to say, as Eliza did, ' My dear, I rejoice I am able to serve
THE OLD LONDON BOOKSELLERS. 233
thee, and, as long as I have it, it is all thine, and we had been still happy had
we lost all but one another ;' this, indeed, is very obliging, and shows she loves
me in earnest. But still there is something in rambling beyond this ; for this is
no more, if her husband be sober, than ' richer for poorer' obliges her to ; but for
a spouse to say, * Travel as far as you please, and stay as long you will, for ab-
sence shall never divide us,' is a higher flight abundantly, as it shows she can
part with her very husband, ten times dearer to a good wife than her money, when
it tends to his satisfaction.'' Acting upon these principles of philosophy, Dunton
took his swing ; and not only gratified himself with the sight of foreign parts,
but, being a perfectly virtuous person, struck up Platonic friendships with all the
agreeable women, — maids, wives, and widows, — he met with wherever he went.
Meanwhile, he took care never to forget his wife at home ; when he was in New
England, he says, he sent Eliza sixty letters by one ship ! He kept all he wrote
during his stay, we suppose, and making them up into a parcel, sent them off at
once. However, Eliza, or Iris, died in 1697 ; and the same year he married a
Miss Sarah Nicholas, whom he calls Valeria, and with whom and whose relatives
he by no means got on so harmoniously as he had done with his first matrimonial
connexion. The truth appears to be that he was by this time a ruined man —
and that his new marriage was rather a speculation in trade than anything else,
his wife having some expectations which he wished to turn to account and was
thwarted in his object by her friends. He had wasted a world of energy and
ingenuity in a vast multiplicity of enterprises and projects, very few of which
probably turned out remunerative. Dunton's first shop was at the corner of
Prince's Street, near the Royal Exchange ; from this, in 1688, on the day the
Prince of Orange entered London, he transferred himself, and his sign of the
Black Raven, to the Poultry Compter, where he remained for ten years. Whither
he went after this does not appear. He published his ' Life and Errors,' in a
little thick duodecimo, in 1705, when he had been twenty years in business — in
the course >f which time, he tells us, he had printed no fewer than 600 works.
Of many of these he was the author, as well as the publisher — and he continued
to write and print for nearly twenty years longer. The last ten years of his ex-
istence, however, seem to have passed in quiet and obscurity — not improbably in
poverty and broken health — and all that is further known of him is that, having
lost his second wife, from whom he had long been separated, in 1721, he gave up
the battle of life in 1733, at the good old age of seventy-four.
The principal literary performance by which Dunton's memory is preserved,
besides his ' Life and Errors,' is his ' Athenian Mercury,' originally published
from 17th March, 1690, to 8th February, 1696, in weekly numbers, the best of
which were afterwards collected and reprinted in three octavo volumes. It was
projected by himself, and his principal or only associates in carrying it on were a
Mr. Richard Sault, a Cambridge theologian, one of his hack authors, for whom
he soon after published a singular production entitled ' The Second Spira,' which
made a great deal of noise — his brother-in-law, Mr. Samuel Wesley — and the
famous metaphysical divine. Dr. John Norris. The papers consist of casuistical
and other disquisitions, in answer to queries upon all sorts of subjects, which are
supposed to have been submitted to the conductors, and many of which probably
were actually sent to them, although in other cases the puzzle as well as the
234 LONDON. |
solution of it may have been the oracle's own. The scheme at least ensuredj
unlimited variety of subject^, and the writers had sufficient talent and superficial
learning to give a temporary interest to their lucubrations, if not to put into
them much of an enduring value.
Dunton himself was not without a touch of something that may be almost
called genius. No doubt he was all along a little, or not a little, mad ; both his
writings and his history betray this throughout ; and he was also a very imper-
fectly educated man. But, if we make due allowance for these defects, we shall
find a merit far above mediocrity in much of what he has done. He may be
shortly characterised as a sort of wild Defoe — a coarser mind cast in somewhat a
like mould — a Defoe without the training, and also with but a scanty endowment
of the natural capability of being so trained, but yet with a considerable portion
of the same fertility and vital force, as well as of the same originality of intel-
lectual character. If Defoe had died before producing any of his works of fic-
tion— which he might very well have done and still left behind him a consider-
able literary name, seeing that the first of them, ' Robinson Crusoe,' did not
appear till 1719, when he was in his fifty-eighth year, and had long been distin-
guished as a political and miscellaneous writer — the comparison between him and
Dunton would not have at all a fanciful or extravagant air.
In a tract, which he entitles ' Dunton's Creed, or Religio Bibliopolse, in imita-
tion of Dr. Brown's Religio Medici,' first published in 1694, under the name of
Benjamin Bridgwater, an M.A. of Trinity College, Cambridge, by whom it was
in fact partly written, Dunton gives no very favourable account of the estimation
in which the members of '^ the Trade" were held in that day. '' Booksellers, in
the gross," he says, " are taken for no better than a pack of knaves and
atheists." He asserts, however, in opposition to this vulgar prejudice, that
'^ among them there is a retail of men who are no strangers to religion and
honesty." In his Life and Errors he undertakes ''to draw the characters of the
most eminent of that profession in the three kingdoms," — and this is one of the
most curious and interesting portions of his book. His review of his literary
contemporaries comprehends also the authors for whom he published, the suc-
cessive licencers of the press with whom he had to do, his printers, the stationers
from whom he bought his paper, and even the binders he employed; but we
must confine ourselves to a few gleanings from his notices of the booksellers.
A circumstance that is apt at first to excite some surprise is the apparent ex-
tent and activity of the publishing business in London at this date. The book-
sellers were very numerous — those of eminence perhaps more numerous than in
the present day — and nearly all of them seem to have at least occasionally en-
gaged in publishing, or printing, as it was called. The impressions, too, we
apprehend, were in general at least as large as in more recent times ; of some
descriptions of publications certainly many more copies were thrown off than
would now find a sale. The fact is, that from the middle of the seventeenth to
the middle of the eighteenth century was the age of pamphlets ; the century
that has since elapsed has been the age of periodical publications and of news-
papers. All controversy and discussion upon the events of the day, and upon
the reigning questions both of politics and religion, was then carried on by
occasional writers; even news was to a considerable extent communicated to the
THE OLD LONDON BOOKSELLERS.
235
ipublic in pamphlets. The gradual transformation of this unregulated condition
of things into the organized system that has taken its place was according to the
common course of nature and the development of society ; and it may be re-
marked that the same process is still going on. Publication seems to be falling
more and more into the form of series and periodical issue; and who knows but
I the time may come when nearly all new works shall be brought out in that
method ?
The bookseller with whose name Dunton heads his list is Mr. Richard Chis-
well, *' who," says he, '* well deserves the title of metropolitan bookseller of
England, if not of all the world. His name at the bottom of a title-page does
sufficiently recommend the book. He has not been known to print either a bad
book, or on bad paper." Chiswell was the printer of the octavo edition of ' Til-
lotson's Sermons/ which proved a remarkably successful publication. A short
account of him may be seen in Strype's ' Stow/ where we are told that he was
born in 1639, and died in 1711. Strype, who states that he was one of the pro-
prietors of his book, characterises him as '' a man worthy of great praise." His
shop was in St. Paul's Churchyard.
A name now better remembered is that of the wealthy Thomas Guy, the
founder of the hospital. He lived in Lombard Street. '^ He is," says Dunton,
[Guy.]
'' a man of strong reason, and can talk very much to the purpose upon any sub-
ject you will propose." Many of these notices of Dunton's, by the bye, bear out
what is said by Roger North of the superior acquirements of the booksellers of
that generation. Thus, Mr. John Lawrence, who, we are informed, *' when Mr.
Parkhurst dies will be the first Presbyterian bookseller in England/' is declared
to be '^ very much conversant in the sacred writings." Of Mr. Samuel Smith,
bookseller to the Royal Society, it is stated that he '' speaks French and Latin
with a great deal of fluency and ease." Mr. Halsey was already distinguished,
we are assured, for " his great ingenuity and knowledge of the learned Ian-
236 LONDON. I
guages," though still " in the bloom and beauty of his youth." Mr. Joseph Collier!
who had been Dunton's fellow apprentice, is affirmed to have '' a great deal oi
learning." Of Mr. Shrowsbury it is written, " He merits the name of universa
bookseller, and is familiarly acquainted with all the books that arc extant in an^j
language." Others again are celebrated for their natural abilities. Mr. Robin]
son is described as '' a man very ingenious and of quick parts." '' Mr. Shermer,
dine," says our author, " is a man of very quick parts ; I have heard him say hcl
would forgive any man that could catch him." Mr. Tooke, near Temple Bail
— '' descended from the ingenious Tooke, that was formerly treasurer" (thel
same Tookes, we suppose, that claim Friar Tuck as of their family) — is set,
down as both '' truly honest/' and " a man of refined sense.'' Mr. Crook, whose
shop was in the same quarter, the publisher of many of Hobbes's works, was dead
when Dunton wrote his book, but *' was a man of extraordinary sense," which he
had the happiness of being able to express in words as manly and apposite as the
sense included under them." Of Mr. Pero it is asserted that " for sense, wit, and
good-humour, there are but few can equal, and none can exceed him." Mr.
Child is commemorated for " abundance of wit, and nice reasoning, above most
of his brethren." Of Mr. Benjamin Harris, of Gracechurch Street, it is recorded
that '' his conversation is general, but never impertinent, and his wit pliable to
all inventions." Mr. Knapton, whose sign was the Crown, in Ludgate Street,
close by St. Paul's Churchyard — the shop from which issued Tindal's translation
of Rapin's ' History of England,' and many more of the most successful publica-
tions of the earlier part of the last century —is spoken of with warm laudation as
" a very accomplished person .... made up with solid worth, brave and
generous." Of Mr. Burroughs, in Little Britain, we have also a high character.
" He," says Dunton, " is a very beautiful person, and his wit sparkles as well as
his eyes. He has as much address, and as great a presence of mind as I ever
met with. He is diverting company, and perhaps as well qualified to make an
alderman as any bookseller in Little Britain.'' We see the very aldermen in that
Augustan age were expected to be somewhat lively. The next who is introduced
is Mr. Walwyn : '^ he," proceeds our encomiastic author, '* is a person of great
modesty and wit, and, if I may judge by his Poems, perhaps the most ingenious
bard, of a bookseller, in London." Mr. Evets, at the Green Dragon, though not
talkative, ^' has a sudden way of repartee, very witty and surprising." . Mr.
SwalJ, now out of business, " was the owner of a great deal of wit and learning."
Mr. Fox, in Westminster Hall, " is a refined politician." Mr. Sprint, junior,
" has a ready wit — is the handsomest man in the Stationers' Company — and may
without compliment be called a very accomplished bookseller." Mr. John
Harris, now dead, had a little body, '' but Avhat nature denied him in bulk and
straightness, she gave him in wit and vigour." Mr. Herrick, again, who is " a
tall, handsome man," " is well skilled in the doctrine of the Christian faith, and
can discourse handsomely upon the most difficult article in religion." Others,
finally, are prodigies of both genius and scholarship — as Mr. Samuel Buckley,
who " is an excellent linguist, understands the Latin, French^ Dutch, and Italian
tongues, and is master of a great deal of wit." — " He prints," adds Dunton, " the
' Daily Courant' and ' Monthly Register,' Avhich I hear he translates out of the
foreign papers himself." Buckley, who ultimately became the printer of the
THE OLD LONDON BOOKSELLERS. 237
' London Gazette/ seems to have been an object of special admiration^ or envy,
to our author, and his merits and good fortune are expatiated upon at great
length in various of his publications. He is known in the republic of letters as
the learned printer, and, in fact, editor, of the London edition of De Thou's
' Latin History,' published in 1733, in seven volumes folio.
The London booksellers of this era would seem, then, to have formed quite a
brilliant constellation of wits and literati. But we have not yet by any means
acquired a complete notion of their fascinations. The following are a few more
of Dunton's graphic touches : — Mr. Thomas Bennet is '' a man very neat in his
dress, and very much devoted to the church.'' Mr. William Hartley is " a very
comely, personable man." Mr. Nicholas Boddington "has the satisfaction to
belong to a very beautiful wife." Mr. Bosvile, at the Dial in Fleet Street, " is a
very genteel person ; and it is in Mr. Bosvile that all qualities meet that are
essential to a good churchman or an accomplished bookseller.'' Mr. Richard
Parker ; '' his body is in good case ; his face red and plump ; his eyes brisk and
. sparkling; of an humble look and behaviour; naturally witty; and fortunate in
j all he prints." Mr. Wellington, among other qualifications, ''has a pretty knack
I at keeping his word." Mr. William Miller, deceased, "had the largest collection
( of stitched books [pamphlets] of any man in the world, and could furnish the
I clergy (at a dead lift) with a printed sermon on any text or occasion;" "his per-
son v/as tall and slender ; he had a graceful aspect (neither stern nor effeminate) ;
his eyes were smiling and lively; his complexion was of an honey colour, and he
breathed as if he had run a race ; the figure and symmetry of his face exactly
proportionable ; he had a soft voice, and a very obliging tongue ; he was very
moderate in his eating, drinking, and sleeping ; and was blest with a great
memory." Mr. Giliiflower " loved his bottle and his friend with an equal affec-
tion." Mr. Philips " is a grave, modest bachelor, and it is said is married to a
single life ; which I wonder at, for doubtless nature meant him a conqueror over
all hearts, when she gave him such sense and such piety : his living so long a
bachelor shows his refined nature." Mr. Smith, near the Royal Exchange ; " his
fair soul is tenant to a lovely and well-proportioned body.'' Mr. Harding is " of
a lovely proportion, extremely well made, as handsome a mien and as good an
air as perhaps few of his neighbours exceed him." Mr. Thomas Simmons, for-
merly of Ludgate Street ; " his conjugal virtues have deserved to be set as an
example to the primitive age." Mr. Harrison, by the Royal Exchange ; " his
person is of the middle size; his hair inclines to a brown, but his care and con-
cern for his family will soon change it into a white, at once the emblem of his
innocence and his virtue.'' Mr. Jonathan Greenwood " is a rare example of
conjugal love and chastity." Mr. Isaac Cleave, in Chancery Lane, " is a very
chaste, modest man." Mr. Place, near Furnival's Inn ; "his face is of a claret
complexion, but himself is a very sober, pious man." Never, certainly, before or
since, were all the graces, both of mind and body, so generally diffused among
any class of men as among these old London booksellers.
The greatest bookseller that had been in England for many years, according
to Dunton, was the late Mr. George Sawbridge. He left his four daughters
portions of 10,000/. a-piece, and was succeeded in his business hj his son of the
same names. The tv> o most famous characters in the list are Jacob Tonson and
238
LONDON.
Bernard Lintott, immortalized by the association of their names with the writings
and wranglings of Dryden and Pope, and the other wits and literary celebrities
of that age. But there is nothing in the notice of either that is of much interest.
Lintott Dunton affirms to be a man of very good principles. Tonson, he says^
'' was bookseller to the famous Dryden, and is himself a very good judge of
[Tonson.]
persons and authors ; and, as there is nobody more competently qualified to give
their opinion of another, so there is none who does it with a more severe exact-
ness or with less partiality ; for, to do Mr. Tonson justice, he speaks his mind
upon all occasions, and will flatter nobody."
One short paragraph is interesting as connecting the present time with the
past, or at least a recent Avith a more distant age. Mr. Ballard '^is," says
Dunton, *' a young bookseller in Little Britain; but is grown man in body now,
but more in mind : —
" His looks are in the mother's beauty dressed,
And all the father has informed his breast."
This Mr. Ballard is said to have been the last survivor of the booksellers of
Little Britain, and to have died in the same house in which he began trade at
the age of upwards of a hundred. If he lived, indeed, till about the year 1795,
as is asserted in Nightingale's 'London and Middlesex,' he must have been con-
siderably more than a centenarian. But it is probable that there is a mistake
of a few years in this date. It is not in 1729, as Nightingale supposes, but in
1705, that Dunton speaks of Mr. Ballard as a young man rising in business.
"Huge Lintott" and ''Left-legged Jacob" are the only two of the four com-
petitors in the immortal contests of the second book of the 'Dunciad' that are
mentioned by Dunton ; the other two, Osborne and Curll, were as yet unknown
to fame. Thomas Osborne, whose shop was the same that had been occupied
by Lintott, under the gateway of Gray's Inn, was, we believe, a respectable
THE OLD LONDON BOOKSELLERS. 239
enough man; he is celebrated as the purchaser of the printed books of the
library of Harley Earl of Oxford, and the publisher of the Harleian Miscellany,
and also of two folio volumes of scarce Voyages and Travels, reprinted from
that collection. Pope charges him with having cut down the folio copies of his
Iliad to the size of the subscription copies, which were in quarto, and sold them
as subscription copies ; but he was probably not guilty of any such misrepre-
sentation ; if he found that the public preferred the quarto to the folio size, he
had a perfect right to cut down his books accordingly. The discomfiture, how-
ever, to which the revengeful poet dooms him for this ingenious manoeuvre is,
it must be admitted, inimitably happy and appropriate.
The notorious Edmund Curll kept shop in Rose Street, Covent Garden,
having Pope's Head for his sign. As the castigation bestowed on him in the
glorious satire is more severe and merciless than that dealt out to any of his
comrades in suffering, so his offence, or offences rather, had been much the
most atrocious. He appears to have first thrown himself into collision with
Pope by publishing a duodecimo volume of early Letters written by the poet to
his friend Henry Cromwell, Esq., which that gentleman had given to Mrs.
Eliza Thomas, the '' Curll's Corinna" of the Dunciad, and which she had sold
to CurlL This was in 1727. Four more volumes followed, under the title of
*Mr. Pope's Literary Correspondence,' the last of which appeared in 1736; but
in these there were only two or three genuine letters of Pope's : the rest of their
contents consisted partly of forgeries in his name, but mostly of matter, much of
it grossly indecent, which, notwithstanding the title-page, it was not even pre-
tended in the body of the book that he had anything to do with. Curll, whose
name has become a synonyme for every thing most disreputable in the trade of
defamation and obscenity, richly deserved all he met with at Pope's hands. The
only pity is that he probably would not feel it — any more than he had felt his
exposure in the pillory a few years before for one of his atrocious publications —
upon which occasion it is said that, by getting printed papers dispersed among
the people telling them that he stood there for vindicating the memory of Queen
Anne, he not only saved himself from being pelted, but, when he was taken down,
was carried off by the mob, as it were in triumph, to a neighbouring tavern.
The early part of the eighteenth century, Ave have said, was still an age of
pamphleteering. This system was first effectually broken in upon by the inge-
nious and enterprising Edward Cave, who, conceiving the notion of substituting a
single vehicle of information and discussion, to appear at regular intervals, for
the numerous occasional papers which then constituted our ephemeral literature,
brought out the first number of the * Gentleman's Magazine' on the 31st of
January, 1731. The speculation was immediately and eminently successful; the
Magazine soon dried up the occasional papers, as the formation of a deep drain
or reservoir of water does all the minor springs in its neighbourhood ; and its
founder^ a man of humble origin, little education, and nobody to help him for-
ward in the world but himself, was made rich and famous, as he deserved to be,
by his lucky project. The ' Gentleman's Magazine' — now well entitled to be
styled the ' Old Gentleman's Magazine' — still perseveres in coming out every
month, with a tenacity of life, and constancy to early habits, above all praise.
240
LONDON.
[Cave.]
Perhaps the next great revolution in the commercial system of our literature
was that brought about by James Lackington, of the Temple of the Muses^ in
Finsbury Square, who may be called the father of cheap bookselling and cheap
reprinting. Lackington, also^ like Cave, of obscure parentage, and the architect
of his own fortunes, has himself told us the story of his rise to greatness in a
very remarkable performance, entitled Memoirs of the First Forty-five Years
of his Life. But he belongs to the subject, not of the Old but of the Modern
booksellers of London ; for his book was first published at so late a date as 1791,
and he lived till 1815. Though we cannot enter upon his doings and character,
however, his effigies may fitly enough close our paper.
[Lackington.]
[Exeter Hall, from the Strand.]
CXVL— EXETER HALL.
The social principle applied in carrying out the designs of charity and benevo-
lence is a remarkable feature of the present times. There are so many objects
of this nature which it is quite clear no single-handed exertions could compass
that the union of numbers to effect them must be regarded as an improvement
of vast importance. It is this spirit of aggregation which has extended so widely
the scope of philanthropic efforts, and given them a larger sphere of action.
The entire world is grasped in the designs of modern philanthropy : the strength
of individual charity has perhaps been weakened by the effort. In old times how
splendid were its noble gifts and endowments. Though directed towards few
objects, the benefit conferred was generally substantial and often of striking
utility, evincing a liberal and thoughtful public spirit which we cannot think of
without a deep sense of admiration. Many of the founders of our grammar-
schools, who perhaps came to London from some remote part of the country in
VOL. V. R
242 LONDON.
early life, and raised themselves from indigence to wealth, marked their sense of
the blessings they had enjoyed by endowing an institution for education in their
native place, where boys were to be instructed "in learning and good manners;"
or **^in grammar and other good learning;" or "freely and carefully taught and
instructed;" or " piously educated;" or instructed "in religion and good lite-
rature." The number of these nurseries for youth in every part of England are
noble monuments of the wisdom and charity of our ancestors. The schools which
early in June every year pour forth their thousands into St. Paul's belong to
another era in the history of educational charities, and such of them as are en-
dowed were mostly established during the last century, though two or three came
into existence just at the close of the seventeenth century. The assemblage of
the children took place for the first time in 1704, in St. Andrew's, Holborn, when
2000 were present ; and subsequently they met at St. Bride's, Fleet Street. In
] 782, 5000 of the children assembled for the first time at St. Paul's, where they
have since annually been collected, and the effect of so large a number uniting
their voices in the responses and the singing is highly impressive and affecting.
That eccentric but powerful artist, Blake, was probably present at the anniver-
sary of 1782, for in his singular little volume entitled 'Songs of Innocence,' he
has the following lines on the occasion : —
" 'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean.
The children walking two and two, in red and blue and green.
Grey-headed beadles walk'd before with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames' waters flow.
" O, what a multitude they seem'd, these flowers of London town,
Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own ;
The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.
" Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among ;
Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor ;
Then cherish pity lest you drive an angel from your door.''
Proceed we, however, to the more complicated schemes of modern charity, or
at least those of them which naturally suggest themselves in connexion with
Exeter Hall ; and something must we say also of the general influence which
brings the place into importance as an actual and living part of our institutions,
as, in these days, a sort of "fourth estate" of the realm.
St. Stephen's is not better known as the seat of legislation than Exeter Hall as
the recognised temple of modern philanthropy. The associations connected with
it are peculiarly characteristic of an age which, in many respects, is marked and
distinct from all other eras in the history of the national manners, and which had
scarcely exhibited any of its phases half a century ago. He who would rightly esti-
mate the present power and influence of our various institutions, must be blind
if he omit all consideration of the moral and religious feelings which are concen-
trated at Exeter Hall, and there find a voice which is heard from one extremity
of the kingdom to the other. In order clearly to understand that the spirit which
animates the frequenters of this place is distinctly a feature of the present age,
we must go back to the period when Exeter Hall was not^ before Freemasons'
EXETER HALL. 243
Hall or the Crown and Anchor had resounded with the plaudits of the religious
and benevolent, even before the " religious world " itself existed. We must
retrace briefly the progress and the efflux of improvement in manners and habits,
for at times the tide has advanced, and then again it has receded.
The supremacy of the Puritans, and their fervour of spirit, might, under more
o-enial circumstances, have produced enlarged and comprehensive schemes of
benevolence such as we now see ; but, as it was, under the influence of political
and religious fanaticism combined, zeal degenerated into bigotry, and warmth of
devotion into a narrow ascetism. A more healthy tone would have succeeded
this fever, no doubt, but the national feeling of merry England revolted against
the puritanical system, and then succeeded by way of reaction the trifling and
. profligate temper of the Restoration. The thoughtless spirit both of the court
and the country, at this period, were altogether incompatible with earnest moral
I efforts of any kind. The Revolution checked the light-heartedness of the nation,
i which had been already over-shadowed by the gloomy character of James II. In
I the reign of Anne a more zealous religious temper again prevailed. In 1692
societies were instituted for the reformation of manners, v/hich dealt much in
I warrants, and placed too great a reliance on the constable. In 1688 the Society
I for Promoting Christian Knowledge, now the most venerable institution of the
i kind, was established for the education and religious instruction of the poor in
the principles of the Established Church. In June, 1701, the Society for the
Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, which had been already some time
j in existence, was incorporated, its chief members being the prelates and digni-
' taries of the Established Church, and some of the most eminent persons in the
State. In the third year, after it had received its Charter, the receipts amounted
to 864/. ; and the first printed list of subscribers, in 1718, contained 260 names.
The British Colonies are to be understood as the " Foreign Parts," to which
the Society confined its operations. The year before it was incorporated, the
question of counteracting the political influence of the French Missionaries in
Canada was much agitated, and partly from political motives, as well as from feel-
ings of interest in their welfare, the Society's first efforts for the conversion of the
heathen were made among the American Indians ; but at a very early period the
Society gave its support to the Danish Foreign Mission, which was commenced
under Frederic IV., about 1705, and sent spiritual labourers to the Danish settle-
ments in India. The reports of these missionaries were translated from the
Danish, and for many years published annually in England, under the title of
" A Brief Account of the Measures taken in Denmark for the Conversion of the
Heathen." Nearly a century elapsed after the establishment of the Society for
the Propagation of the Gospel before any kindred institution arose in England.
The existence of the two Societies above-mentioned, and of those for the reforma-
tion of manners, is a proof of a more zealous spirit having partially found its way
into the Church, and also to some, though not perhaps to any great extent, into
society generally. But it is unquestionable that the reigns of the First and
Second Georges were characterised by an extraordinary degree of apathy in the
Church, and amongst the higher classes, on religious, moral, and social questions.
At length the zeal and energy of Wesley and Whitefield aroused the Church from
its slumbers, and it began slowly to awaken to a sense of the duties required from
r2
244 LONDON.
it, and from all who enjoyed wealth and influence ; but not until the religious
fervour of the poorer classes had been already powerfully excited by the system
of Methodism, and they were ready to point indignantly at the Church as an
obstacle rather than a guide. There needed yet a religious regenerator, whose
voice would be listened to in high places, for there the moral insensibility was as
dull as ever. At the period which just preceded the French Revolution, '' the
gay and busy world were almost ignorant of Christianity, amidst the lukewarm-
ness and apathy which possessed the very watchmen of the faith."* Amongst the
most conspicuous of those who endeavoured to regenerate the national spirit were
Wilberforce and Hannah More. Wilberforce proposed to form an association,
like its precursor in 1692, to resist the spread of open immorality. His plan was,
in the first instance, to obtain a Royal proclamation against vice, and then to form
an association for carrying it into effect. Writing to Mr. Hey, of Leeds, in May,
1787, he announces that in a few days he would hear of '' a proclamation being
issued for the discouragement of vice, of letters being written by the Secretaries
of State to the Lords Lieutenant, expressing his Majesty's pleasure that they re-
commend it throughout their several counties, to be active in the execution of the
laws against immoralities, and of a Society being formed in London for the pur-
pose of carry into effect his Majesty's good and generous intentions .... The
objects to which the Committee will direct their attention are the offences spe-
cified in the proclamation, — profanation of the Sabbath, swearing, drunkenness,
licentious publications, unlicensed places of public amusement, the regulation of
licensed places, &c." He mentions in this letter that he had received a formal
invitation to cards, for Sunday evening, from a person high in the king's service.
In June, Wilberforce was visiting the bishops in their respective dioceses, as he
wished to communicate with them separately, " lest the scruples of a few might
prevent the acquiescence of the rest." His sons state, in the biography of their
father, that " the Society was soon in active and useful operation. The Duke of
Montagu opened his house for its reception, and presided over its meetings, — a
post which was filled after his death by the late Lord (Chancellor) Bathurst, who
was followed by Bishop Porteus; and before its dissolution it had obtained many
valuable Acts of Parliament, and greatly checked the spread of blasphemous and
indecent publications." Its existence was, at all events, a proof that the apathy
of former years was passing away. In 1788 Hannah More published ' Thoughts
on the Manners of the Great,' with a view of inducing them to reflect on the
levity of many of their pursuits. In fact this class began to be seriously annoyed
at the invasion of their pleasures by the greater strictness which public opinion
now demanded from them. In 1791 Hannah More again endeavoured to arouse
attention by her ' Estimate of the Religion of the Fashionable World.' In 1796
she had commenced writing the first of the modern religious tracts. Bishop
Porteus, writing to her in January, 1797, says, *' The sublime and immortal pub-
lication, of the ' Cheap Repository,' I hear of from every quarter of the globe."
Two millions of these tracts were disposed of in the first year. In 1797, Wilber-
force published his ' Practical Christianity,' a work which had undoubtedly a
great effect on the higher classes. Within half a year, five editions, of altogether
* i
Life of Wilberforce/ by his Sons.
EXETER HALL. 245
7500 copies, were printed. This popularity is to be attributed partly to the
author's intimate friendship with Mr. Pitt, and his connexion with the most dis-
tinguished men of the day, and partly also to the warmer and more earnest moral
spirit which began to prevail. In 1798 attempts at legislative interference
having been dropped, Wilberforce was active in inducing persons of the higher
ranks to adopt a voluntary engagement to promote the observance of the Sabbath.
Hannah More, writing from Bishop Porteus's, at F-ulham, in 1797, says, '' The
' Morning Chronicle,' and other ^jzoits newspapers, have laboured to throw such a
stigma on the association for the better observance of the Sunday, that the timid
great are steering off, and very few indeed have signed." The Bishop of Durham
laid the declaration before George III. ; but Wilberforce states in his ' Diary/
that the king " turned the conversation." Wilberforce himself waited upon the
Speaker to induce him to give up his Sunday parliamentary dinners, but the
first Commoner in the land grew angry, and took his interference as a personal
insult. In 1 799 a bill was brought into Parliament for the suppression of Sunday
newspapers, which Pitt promised to support, but Dundas induced him to retract
his pledge, on the plea that three out of the four Sunday newspapers supported
the ministry ; and after Sheridan's gibes at the measure it was thrown out on the
second reading. Hannah More relates a more hopeful incident on the authority
i of Lady Cremorne, who told her that on coming down stairs on Sunday morning
at eight o'clock, she found " Admiral C, another Admiral, and a General, with
their Bibles, each separately, in different parts of the room, and so at times all
the day." Then, in 1805, seven years afterwards, she writes from Fulham that
the Bishop of London was making a stand against Sunday concerts. *' He has,"
she says, '' written an admirable \etter, very strong and very pious, but tem-
perate and well-mannered, to all the great ladies concerned in this un-Christian
practice. They have in general behaved well, and promised amendment." Again
writing from Fulham, in 1809, she says that the Bishop (Porteus) having heard
of the institution of a club, under the patronage of the Prince of Wales, which
was to meet on a Sunday, he asked for an audience to entreat the Prince to fix on
some other day. '' Supported by two servants, and hardly able to move with
their assistance, he got to the apartment of the Prince, and with agitated earnest-
ness conjured him to fix on some other day for this meeting. The Prince re-
ceived him most graciously, seemed much affected, said it was not a new institu-
tion, and that it was founded on charity, but that if the day could be changed to
Saturday it should." A few months before, Perceval, the Prime Minister, had
been induced to alter the day for Parliament meeting, which, as it was to have
been Monday, would have involved the necessity of a great amount of Sunday
travelling. Wilberforce drew his attention to this circumstance, and the Minister
apologized for the inadvertency ; and two days after he wrote to Wilberforce,
stating that the meeting was postponed to Thursday, *^ to obviate the objections
which you have suggested." In his ' Diary,' Wilberforce says, " The House
put off nobly by Perceval, because of the Sunday travelling it would occasion."
Sunday card-parties and Sunday concerts amongst the higher classes are now un-
heard^ of; as the more thoughtful views which this class entertain, as well as
the general state of public opinion, have put an end to such a mode of spending
any portion of the Sunday.
246 LONDON.
There are two subjects involving religious, moral, and political consideration!
on which the stricter (and in so many things juster) spirit of the last fifty yea
has exercised a most important influence. The death-blow of slavery may b
said to have proceeded from Exeter Hall ; and the abolition of capital punis
ment, except for atrocious crimes, is the result of the same religious feelin
Seventy years ago Granville Sharpe proved slavery to be illegal in Englan
Sixty years ago Bishop Porteus preached against the Slave Trade. A quarte
of a century elapsed, and in 1807, after arduous struggles, the trade is abolished
Another quarter of a century runs its course, and in 1833 an Act is passed fo:
emancipating every slave in the British dominions. The agitation of this ques
tion for seventy years, the discussions to which it led of the rights of humanity
and the principles of justice and Christianity, were singularly favourable to the
development of the peculiar spirit which has its altars at Exeter Hall. Foi
some years the struggle was chiefly confined to Parliament, aided by friends oi
abolition here and there. The public were spectators rather than actors, deeply
interested ones no doubt, but not assembling in '-'conventions" and great " aboli
tion meetings," to concentrate public opinion in its utmost strength, as they have
done since the formation of the Anti- Slavery Society in 1823. It was in 1792
that many of the friends of abolition determined to abstain from the consumption
of West India produce, so long as it was raised by slaves. '' We use East
Indian sugar entirely," writes Mr. Babington to Mr. Wilberforce, " and so do
full two-thirds of the friends of abolition in Leicester." Mr. W. Smith says to
Wilberforce, ''Please to take notice that I have left oiF sugar completely and
entirely for some time past, and shall certainly persevere in my resolution, though
I am not yet at all reconciled to the deprivation of the most favourite gratifica-
tion of my palate." Associations were rapidly formed to stop the consumption
of West India produce, and Wilberforce, it appears, was at first disposed to re-
commend this course, but he afterwards decided " that it should be suspended
until, if necessary, it might be adopted wdth effect by general concurrence."
The struggle excited a bitterness of feeling amongst some of the West Indian
body which fifty years ago showed itself in ways calculated to astonish those who
are accustomed to the more tolerant spirit of the present day. " The box in
which our petition is enclosed," says a Glasgow correspondent to Mr. Wilber-
force, "has been directed to another, that its contents may be unsuspected."
Residents in Liverpool, of the same rank in life as Dr. Currie, asked of Mr.
Wilberforce, "If you write, be pleased to direct without franking it." The
biographers of Wilberforce state that the anti- slavery correspondence was in
many instances conducted " in unsigned letters, sent under the covers of unsus-
pected persons." In a letter which did not at all allude to West Indian matters,
and was therefore openly transmitted to Mr. Wilberforce, Dr. Currie adds this
postscript, " Trusting this letter to our post-ofifice with your address, I shall be
anxious to hear of its safe arrival." Besides the selfishness of traders there
were other obstacles to be encountered, and the strength of the parliamentary
opposition may be judged of from the fact that in 1804 four of the royal family
came down to the House of Lords to vote against the abolition of the Slave
Trade : it had, however, been carried in the Commons.
The amelioration of our sanguinary criminal laws encountered diflficulties
EXETER HALL. 247
^'^ almost as great as those which retarded the abolition of the Slave Trade. It is
J^' but justice to state that in 1750 a committee of the House of Commons on the
l^i laws relating to felonies reported '' that it was reasonable to exchange the
'*^ punishment of death for some other reasonable punishment;" and a Bill founded
S an this resolution passed the House of Commons^ but was rejected by the Lords.
^ii The question rested here for above half a century, until, in 1808, Sir Samuel
^'i (Romilly brought forward his first motion for the reform of the criminal laws, and
^^ an Act was passed for abolishing the punishment of death for pocket-picking
'■'< (stealing privately from the person to the value of five shillings). In 1810 Sir
"3 Samuel Romilly's Bill to abolish capital punishment for the crime of stealing
31! privately in a shop to the amount of five shillings was rejected in the House of
'* Lords by a majority of 31 to 11. In the majority were not fewer than seven
f^J prelates, namely, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of London and
'2 Salisbury, Dampier, Bishop of Ely, Luxmore^ Bishop of Hereford, Sparke, the
i: new Bishop of Chester, and Porter, an Irish bishop. It was alleged as a reason
^ for not going further that the crime of pocket-picking had alarmingly increased
'f since the capital punishment for it had been abolished ; but it was forgotten that
the increased number of convictions was rather a proof of the success of the
former measure, for the previous inordinate severity of the law prevented those
who had been robbed from prosecuting, and crime was encouraged by impunity.
In 1813 the Bill to repeal the Shoplifting Act was again thrown out in the
Lords, and two royal dukes and five bishops were in the majority, with the Lord
Chancellor and the ministers. In 1816, although the measure had several times
passed the Commons, it was still pending ; and on Romilly bringing it forward
this year, he stated that a boy of only ten years of age had been convicted at
the Old Bailey under the Act, and was then lying under sentence of death in
Newgate ; and he drew attention to the fact, because, some time before, the Re-
corder of London had declared from the bench that it was the determination of
the Prince Regent^ in consequence of the number of boys who had been lately
detected in committing felonies, to make an example of the next offender of this
description. A few months afterwards a boy of sixteen was actually hung at
Newgate for highway robbery. The Bill was again rejected. In February,
1818, it was again brought in by its author, who alluded to the ill success of
excessive severity in repressing forgery; for though the Crown seldom pardoned,
the offence was rapidly increasing. Sir Samuel Romilly died in the autumn of
the same year, and the progress of enlightened opinion has enabled others to
carry out his benevolent views, while time has proved that they were not less
benevolent than practically successful in securing the object at which he aimed.
In 1819, 20, 21, 22, there were 426 persons executed in England and Wales,
and in the four years ending with 1841, only 36. Persons being less reluctant to
prosecute, the number of convictions has increased from 58 to 72 out of every
100 offenders. The proportion of atrocious offences has been gradually
diminishing, and those against property committed without violence have in-
creased from 73 per cent, in 1834 to 79 per cent, in 1841. These facts show
that, on some important questions, there is not only the enthusiasm of warm and
generous tempers in the Exeter Hall spirit, but at times excellent sense and
sound philosophy. The State Lotteries fell before the same power. Lastly, the
il
248 LONDON.
cruel practices connected with the employment of climbing boys in sweeping i
chimneys have been abolished.
It must be confessed that a dilettanti spirit of enthusiasm and benevolence, i
which disregards the attainment of practical objects by plain means, is sometimes
rather too prominent at Exeter Hall, though it is true that the influential leaders
here are generally at the same time conspicuous for their activity in promoting
good works generally ; but this is scarcely sufficient to redeem the mass from the
charge of an insensibility to evils less remote than those which, in many instances,
exclusively bring their sympathies into full play. Carried away by the grandeur
of the object they propose to accomplish, they are led to applaud ill-considered
and impracticable modes of attaining it. This is very creditable perhaps to their
feelings, warmed into excitement by declamatory appeals under which the imagi-
nation becomes too powerful for the reason and intelligence of the listeners. Thus
the famous Niger expedition, with its model farms and apparatus and schemes
for civilizing Africa, finds favour at Exeter Hall, while the safe and practical
plan set on foot by the government for promoting the emigration of the natives
of Africa to the British Colonies in the West, and who, after acquiring a higher
civilization, and valuable knowledge of the arts of life, would return to Africa to
disseminate in that barbaric land the seeds of improvement ; — this is a measure,
though protected by every necessary check which can be thought of, which is
loudly denounced. From Exeter Hall the view of remote evils is more distinct than
of those which lie everywhere around us. The eye pierces, as well as it can, into
the obscure horizon, but does not behold the objects at hand which stand broadly
in the full daylight^ because its gaze, though embracing the furthest limits of the
globe, is not directed downward as well. This characteristic has led a nervous
and powerful writer into one of his striking apostrophes : — '' O Anti- Slavery
Convention/' he exclaims, '*^ loud-sounding, long-eared Exeter Hall! But in
thee too is a kind of instinct towards justice, and I will complain of nothing. Only
black Quashee over the seas being once sufficiently attended to, wilt not thou
perhaps open thy dull sodden eyes to the hunger-stricken, pallid, yellow- coXovLvedi
' free labourers ' in Lancashire, Yorkshire, Buckinghamshire, and all other shires ?
These yellow-coloured for the present absorb all my sympathies : if I had
twenty millions, with model farms and Niger expeditions, it is to these that I
would give them. Quashee has already victuals, clothing ; Quashee is not dying
of such despair as the yellow-coloured pale man's. Quashee, it must be owned, is
hitherto a kind of blockhead. The Haiti Duke of Marmalade, educated now for
almost half a century, seems to have next to no sense in him. Why, in one of those
Lancashire weavers, dying of hunger, there is more thought and heart, a greater
arithmetical amount of misery and desperation, than in whole gangs of Quashees.
It must be owned, thy eyes are of the sodden sort ; and with thy emancipations,
and thy twenty-millionings, and long-eared clam;*urings, thou, like Robespierre
with his pasteboard 'Eire Supreme, threatenest to become a bore to us, ' Avec ton
Etre Supreme tu commences rnembeter T '"* ^ Thus much it may be remarked in
defence of Exeter Hall, — that as the consideration of domestic evils can rarely be
separated from questions to which a political character, whether rightly or wrongly,
is given, it may be that most of those who, in moral and religious questions, dis-
* Mr. Carlyle's ' Past and Present.'
EXETER HALL. 249
play such strong and fervid feelings, fear nevertheless to plunge into the agitated
waters of politics, and content themselves with exertions of a private nature.
We have, hoAvever, paused too long on the threshold, and will now notice
Exeter Hall itself In 1829 the Strand was deformed by an ill-shaped clumsy
building called Exeter 'Change, of which an account has already been given.*
The wild beasts at Exeter 'Change were lions of the town quite as much as those
of the Tower. The menagerie was removed in 1832. " Passing one day," says
Mr. Leigh Hunt, ''by Exeter 'Change, we beheld a sight strange enough to wit-
ness in a great thoroughfare — a fine horse startled, and pawing the ground, at the
roar of lions and tigers. It was at the time probably when the beasts were being
fed." When it was determined to pull down the old 'Change and widen the
street, several persons of influence in the religious world proposed a scheme for
i building a large edifice, which should contain rooms of different sizes, to be ap-
propriated exclusively to the uses of religious and benevolent societies, especially
I for their anniversary meetings, with committee-rooms and offices for several
societies whose apartments were at that time crowded in houses taken for the
purpose, as is the case at present with several scientific bodies, who might take a
hint on the subject, and erect a large building for their joint accommodation.
Exeter Hall was completed in 1831. It attracts little attention from the pas-
senger, as the frontage is very narrow, and the exterior simply consists of a lofty
portico formed of two handsome Corinthian pillars, with a flight of steps from
I the street to the Hall door. But when any great meeting is assembled, or is
; about to break up, there is no mistaking the place. The building stretches
backward and extends to the right and left a considerable space. The Strand
entrance leads to a wide passage, which at the extremity branches off into
transverse passages. Two flights of steps, which meet above, lead to the
great Hall, ninety feet broad, one hundred and thirty-eight long, and forty- eight
high. It will hold four thousand persons, and, with scarcely any discomfort,
a much larger number. The ranges of one half tiie seats rise in an amphi-
theatrical form, and the platform, at one end, is raised about six feet, and will
accommodate five hundred persons. The " chair " in the front is not unlike
that of Edward the Confessor in Westminster Abbey. The speakers, near the
front, are accommodated with chairs, behind which rise rows of benches. Two
flights of steps extend from the front row to the entrances at the back. Eight
or nine years ago the capacity of the great Hall was enlarged by the erection of
a gallery at the end opposite the platform, and two or three years afterwards the
curve of the platform on each side was extended into galleries reaching a con-
siderable distance into the middle of the room along the walls. When the Hall
is quite filled the sight is grand and striking. An habitual attendant at Exeter
Hall, in his ' Recollections/ has described the (to him) familiar aspect of the
place on these occasions : — '^ The finest view is from the deep recesses behind the
platform. Below you lies the platform, slanting downwards, and extending into
a crescent shape, with its crowds sitting or standing ; beyond them is the large
flat surface of the area, its close benches all filled, and the avenues among them
occupied by chairs or by persons who are fain to stand for want of sitting-room.
Behind this are the raised seats, gradually appearing one behind another, and
occupying a space equal to half the size of the whole room; all again fully
* No. XXXVL, vol. ii., p. 174.
250 LONDON.
crowded, and the descending steps among the benches filled by the standing i
multitude. Over their heads, the whole scene is crowned by the back gallery,
at a height of many feet. Those who wish to realise the idea of ' a sea of heads '
should talce this view of Exeter Hall on some popular occasion. When such an
assembly rises, for prayer or praise, at the beginning or end of a meeting, the
sight is still more stupendous, and the degree of sound they are able to produce,
in the way of cheering or singing, is almost incredible. There have been occa-
sions when that vast room has rung with the voices of those assembled within its
walls ; and a second peal of cheers succeeding, before the echos of the first have
died away, the noise altogether has been of a nature that few persons could hear
unmoved." Underneath the great Hall is a smaller one, with a gallery and
platform adapted to the size of the apartment, but it has no raised seats. There
are sometimes meetings in both halls at the same time, and the acclamations of
the larger audience reverberating in the smaller hall, a speaker unaccustomed
to the place perhaps pauses until the plaudits have died away, thinking they
proceeded from the audience he was addressing. From April to the end of May
about thirty different societies hold their anniversary meetings at Exeter Hall,
either in the larger or smaller hall, the latter of which will hold about a
thousand persons ; and there is one still smaller which will hold about a
fourth of this number. On great occasions the street entrance is often crowded
for some time before the doors are opened, which is usually about two hours
before the chair is taken. Instances have occurred in which persons have
been waiting for the opening of the doors from the early hour of seven in the
morning. To fill up the vacant time, books and newspapers are resorted to, and
even needle-work is taken out ; but in general, if the visitor arrive an hour
before the chair is taken, there will be no difficulty in obtaining room. The
number of tickets issued is always greater than the Hall will contain, as those
experienced in such matters are able to form a tolerably correct estimate of the
number who, from various circumstances, Avill not be able to attend. A singular
instance of mistaken reckoning on this point occurred on Thursday, the 1st of
June, 1843, when the largest meeting assembled which had ever been known at
Exeter Hall. The weather had been for some time so unfavourable that about
ten thousand tickets were issued, under the idea that a full meeting would not
be obtained without making an unusually large allowance for the absence of
those whose attendance would be prevented by the weather ; but the object of
the meeting was felt to be so important that the muster was two or three times
as great as was anticipated, and though the smaller hall received the overflow-
ings of the larger one, there were still two or three thousand persons who could
not gain admittance after the doors were opened at eight o'clock in the morning.
Many of these assembled at Great Queen Street Chapel, which was filled by about
fifteen hundred persons. The object of the meeting is interesting as an illustration
of the Exeter Hall spirit, being for the purpose of promoting Christian union
among the different religious bodies in this country. On the platform were to
be seen clergymen of the Established Church and ministers of all the dissenting
communities of Christians. A report was read in which the desire was expressed
that the meeting should '' forget their distinctive opinions in the contemplation
of their common Christianity as a sufficient ground of fraternal regard and con-
fidence," The document went on to say that '^ no practical object is connected
EXETER HALL. 251
with tins meeting. It has been felt to be necessary, first, to raise the tone of
Christian feeling and communion, by confining attention to the object already
stated; and by exercises of a hallowed nature, adapted to promote it, in the
hope that our combining together in any great movement, either for the defence
or propagation of the common faith, might thus be rendered more practical, and
more likely to be of a sound and lasting character." The enthusiasm which pre-
vails at meetings of this kind, and at the " May meetings" generally, would sur-
prise most persons. A large proportion of those present are females of that
portion of the middle classes who are in easy circumstances, who are shut out by
their views, opinions, and habits from many of the common sources of emotion.
At Exeter Hall, their sympathies are powerfully exercised; the range of subjects
in which they are most conversant are dwelt ujDon with exciting interest ; the
imagination is awakened, and distant objects are viewed in an enchanted light.
Considering the topics of declamation which abound at Exeter Hall, many of
them truly grand in their scope and character, it is not at all wonderful that
their discussion should inflame the mind and kindle the religious and moral
feelings of the hearers. In scenes like those witnessed at Exeter Hall, there is,
as Wilberforce remarks, " a moral sublimity w^hich, if duly estimated, would be
worthy of the tongues of angels." The artist finds in such scenes a great sub-
ject for the pencil. It is suflficient to refer to Haydon's Picture of the Great
Meeting of Delegates for the Abolition of Slavery and the Slave Trade through-
out the World, held in June, 1840, under the presidency of the venerable
Clarkson. The artist left his painting-room unwillingly, in the belief that the
scene would be one of a very common-place character. The account of his visit
is graphic and striking, and we give an extract from it as being calculated to
familiarize the reader with the general spirit of a great religious meeting. " In
a few minutes an unaffected man got up, and informed the meeting that Thomas
Clarkson w^ould attend shortly : he begged no tumultuous applause would greet
his entrance, as his infirmities were great, and he was too nervous to bear,
without risk of injury to his health, any such expressions of their good feeling
towards him. The Friend who addressed them was Joseph Sturge, a man whose
whole life has been devoted to ameliorate the condition of the unhappy. In a
few minutes, the aged Clarkson came in, grey and bent, leaning on Joseph Sturge
for support, and approached with feeble and tottering steps the middle of the
convention. I had never seen him before, nor had most of the foreigners
present; and the anxiety to look on him, betrayed by all, was exceedingly un-
affected and sincere. Immediately behind Thomas Clarkson were his daughter-
in-law, the widow of his son, and his little grandson. Aided by Joseph Sturge
and his daughter, Clarkson mounted to the chair, sat down in it as if to rest,
and then, in a tender, feeble voice, appealed to the assembly for a few minutes'
meditation before he opened the convention. The venerable old man put his
hand simply to his forehead, as if in prayer, and the whole assembly followed his
example ; for a minute there was the most intense silence I ever felt. Having
inwardly uttered a short prayer, he was again helped up ; and bending forward,
leaning on the table, he spoke to the great assembly as a patriarch standing
near the grave, or as a kind father who felt an interest for his children. Every
word he uttered was from his heart — he spoke tenderly, tremulously ; and, in
alluding to Wilberforce, acknowledged, just as an aged man would acknowledge.
252 LONDON.
his decay of memory in forgetting many other dear friends whom he could not
then recollect. After solemnly urging the members to persevere to the last, till
slavery was extinct, lifting his arm and pointing to heaven (his face quivering
with emotion), he ended by saying, ' May the Supreme Ruler of all human
events, at whose disposal are not only the hearts but the intellects of men — may
He, in His abundant mercy, guide your councils and give His blessing upon
your labours,' There was a pause of a moment, and then, without an inter-
change of thought or even of look, the whole of this vast meeting, men and
women, said, in a tone of subdued and deep feeling, 'Amen! Amen!' To the
reader not present it is scarcely possible to convey without affectation the effect!
on the imagination of one who, like myself, had never attended benevolent
meetings, had no notion of such deep sincerity in any body of men, or of the!
awful and unaffected piety of the class I had been brought amongst. I j
have seen the most afflicting tragedies, imitative and real; but never did I wit-
ness, in life or in the drama, so deep, so touching, so pathetic an effect produced )
on any great assembly as by the few, unaffected, unsophisticated, natural, and |
honest words of this aged and agitated person. The women wept — the men i
shook off their tears, unable to prevent their flowing ; for myself, I was so affected \
and so astonished, that it was many minutes before I recovered, sufficiently to j
perceive the moment of interest I had longed for had come to pass — and this i
was the moment I immediately chose for the picture." This Anti- Slavery
Convention was succeeded by the annual meeting of the British and Foreign
Anti- Slavery Society, at which the late Duke of Sussex presided. Clarkson
was present, also Monsieur Guizot and Mrs. Fry, and many persons whose
services in the Anti-Slavery cause are known in every part of the world.
Amongst the speakers were an American judge, an English missionary, a French
philanthropist, and a man of colour. In the following year Prince Albert made
his first appearance at any public meeting in England. The great hall was filled
two hours before the proceedings commenced, and the platform was crowded by
some of the most distinguished men in England. The meeting was that of the
Society for the Extinction of the Slave Trade, and the Civilization of Africa.
The speakers at the " May meetings" comprise a few of the Members of both
Houses of Parliament ; at the Church Missionary Society, and the Bible Society
anniversaries, some of the bishops ; at the meetings of other denominations,
the leading men in each. Persons of provincial celebrity make their debut before
a London audience ; and the variety and peculiarities of the speakers are a suffi-
ciently tempting theme to the critical among the fair sex. In one year Wilberforce
attended ten of these meetings in as many days, and spoke twelve times. To a
man of strong philanthropic feelings, and of sufficient consideration to attract the
public eye, especially also if he be a fluent speaker, and have the business habits
which constitute a good " committee-man," the various religious and benevolent
institutions in London open a very active field of exertion and usefulness. The
Exeter Hall class of societies so entirely depend upon the principle of aggrega-
tion, that to gain influence in the direction of their operations and affairs neces-
sarily presumes the existence in some degree of qualifications which in another
popular body leads to the highest distinctions. But however eminent and influ-
ential any of the well-known speakers and leaders at Exeter Hall may be, their
fame is circumscribed and limited to a world of its own, unless they happen to
I
EXETER HALL. 253
have achieved importance in some other sphere ; and out of their own region they
would be unknown if the newspapers did not make the public familiar with their
names ; though a large territory, no doubt it is, in which they find enthusiastic
admirers, and wherein they are appreciated. Then again, to the world at large,
Exeter Hall is only regarded as a single arena, whereas it is one field Avith many
encampments of distinct tribes ; or, as a writer lately remarked, " The manner
in which they club and congregate, and yet keep apart in distinct groups, reminds
one of the rival orders in the Church of Rome. Jesuits, Franciscans, Dominicans,
Monks, Friars, and Canons-regular — all had their independent organization ; all
were rivals, though zealous members and supporters of one Church. And Wes-
leyan. Church, Baptist Missionary Societies — all maintain a certain degree of
reserve towards each other ; all are jealous of the claims of rival sects ; and yet
are all attracted by a common sense of religious earnestness. The independent
and often mutually repelling bodies who congregate in Exeter Hall are one in
•pirit, with all their differences. Without a pervading organization, they are a
Church." *
The first three days of May in the present year (1843) were each the anniver-
saries of one of the great religious societies. On the 1st, the Wesley an Missionary
Society held its meeting, which was addressed by a converted American Indian
in his native costume. The income of the Society for the preceding year was
98,252/., and the Report stated that it supports 265 principal mission stations.
On the following day the meeting of the Church Missionary Society took place.
The income for 1842-3 was 115,000/. The next day was the anniversary of the
British and Foreign Bible Society, the most Catholic of all the religious societies.
On the 12th of March, 1804, when a committee met to complete the organization
of the new institution, a motion was made to appoint the Rev. Joseph Hughes
to the office of secretary, but was opposed by the Rev. J. Owen, who urged the
impolicy of constituting a dissenting minister the secretary of an institution
which was to unite the whole body of Christians. This led to an arrangement,
the principle of which was at once so judicious and liberal that it has constituted
one of the chief corner-stones of the Society's stability and success. Three secre-
taries were appointed — a clergyman, a dissenting minister, and a foreign secretary,
in order that the foreign churches might be represented in the Society. Thus, as
Mr. Owen, the historian of the Bible Society, remarks, *' The progress of an hour
carried the committee on, from the hasty suggestions of a short-sighted attach-
ment to the wise determination of a liberal policy." At the same time, the future
proportion of churchmen, dissenters, and foreigners in the governing body was
distinctly defined. It consists of six foreigners resident in or near the metropolis,
fifteen churchmen, and fifteen dissenters, the whole of the thirty-six being lay-
men. The first meeting of the Society was held on the 2nd of May, 1804, when
Lord Teignmouth was appointed president, and on the following day four of
the bishops sent in their names as subscribers. The Bible Society has 2870
affiliated societies in this country, of which 101 were formed in 1842. In 1810,
six years after the establishment of the Parent Society, there were but eleven
branch Societies in existence, and the annual income was only 18,543/. Ten
years afterwards^ in 1820, the income amounted to 123,547/. The Bible So-
* ' Spectator.'
\
254 LONDON.
ciety has issued about fifteen million copies of the Scriptures, and it has caused
them to be translated, either wholly or in part, into the languages '' of every
nation under heaven." The Baptist Missionary Society celebrated its fiftieth
anniversary in 1842, by the collection of a fund called the Jubilee Fund, which
amounted to 32,500/., and the ordinary receipts for 1842-3 were 21,198/., making
a total of upwards of 53,000/. raised by a comparatively small and not wealthy j
body. The Baptist Missionary Society was the first which sprung up in England
after an interval of nearly a century from the establishment of the Society for the
Propagation of the Gospel. It was succeeded in 1795 by the London Missionary,
which also holds its anniversaries at Exeter Hall. At the last meeting, May 11th,
the income of this Society for the past year was stated to be 78,450/., and its ex-
penditure 85,442/. Altogether a sum of about 400,000/. a-year is annually col-
lected for missions, and as a very large amount is obtained in small sums, the
number of contributors must be prodigious. In 1822, the income of the Church,
Wesleyan, and London Missionary Societies was 98,000/. ; but it is now triple
this amount. Besides the Missionary Societies, there are kindred institutions,
whose object is to supply the want of religious instruction at home. The Bap-
tist Home Missionary Society has an income of above 5000/., and the Home
Missionary Society of above 9000/. The Church Pastoral Aid Society (income
19,000/.), and the Clerical Aid Society (income 7818/.), both in connexion with
the Established Church, are designed to provide more adequately for the reli-
gious wants of the people in populous districts. The Society for the Pro-
pagation of Christianity amongst the Jews has an income of 25,000/. a-year.
The Bible Society circulates the Scriptures alone, but there are other Societies
which undertake the distribution of works of a religious and moral nature.
The Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, with an annual income of
about 100,000/., circulates nearly four million publications in the course of the
year, of which about three millions are tracts. The Religious Tract Society,
established in 1798, has an income of above 50,000/., of which less than 6000/.
is derived from voluntary contributions, the remainder being the produce of
sales of publications, which comprise every variety, from a hand-bill and
*' broadside " for cottage walls to a commentary on the Bible. In 1842-3 the
number of publications issued exceeded sixteen millions, and above two hundred
new ones were added to the Society's list. Since the formation of the Society,
377,000,000 publications have been circulated in ninety different languages.
There is one series of tracts adapted for sale by hawkers, in which improvements
have been successively made at various intervals during the last forty jescrs as
the popular taste advanced ; and as some notice of this change will probably
be interesting to many readers, we give it in the form of a note.* The Sunday
School Union, established in 1802, has an income of nearly 9000/. a year from
* Soon after the formation of the Society, small publications usually sold by itinerant vendors were found^
for the most part, immoral and disgusting in their contents ; the best among them were absurd and puerile. In
1805, the attention of the Committee was especially directed to these publications, when it was deemed expedient
to supply a better article at a lower price to the vendors. The Committee were obliged, in the first instance, to
prepare tracts with striking titles, and in some degree inferior in their contents, to prevent too great a discrepancy
from those they were designed to supplant. The titles of some of them fully evince this : — * The Fortune Teller's
Conjuring Cap/ ' The Wonderful Cure of General Naaman,' ' The Stingy Farmer's Dream,' ' Tom Toper's Tale
over his Jug of Ale,' ' Rhyming Dick and the Strolling Player,' all indicate that it was necessary to catch at
EXETER HALL.
255
I the sale of publications. The City Mission and District Visiting Societies are
recently established institutions, for the purpose of relieving the spiritual and
temporal necessities of the poor in London. The London City Mission has an
income of 6700/. a year ; and during the year preceding the last report, 364,369
visits were made amongst the poor, in a population exceeding two millions, within
eight miles of St. Paul's. We here place before the reader a summary of the
Receipts and Expenditure of Religious and Benevolent Societies for 1841-2,
taken from the ' Christian Almanac' for 1843 : —
£.
£.
African Civilization Society . 3,692
Aged Pilgrim's Friend . . 1,600
Anti-Slavery* 2,840
Baptist Missionary . . . 22,727
■Baptist Home Missionary . 5,153
Baptist Irish 2,300
Baptist Colonial Missionary . 507
'Bible Translation (Baptist) . 1,600
British and Foreign Bible* . 95,095
British and Foreign Sailors' . 2,500
'British and Foreign School . 7,080
'British and Foreign Tempe-
rance* 1,100
British Reformation* . . . 1,508
Christian Knowledge* . . 90,476
Christian Instruction . . . 1,428
Church Missionary . . , 93,592
Church of Scotland Missions . 4,577
— Jewish Mission . . 5,839
Colonial . . . 4,160
Education Scheme 5,684
Church Extension . 3,403
Ditto Supplementary
Fund 1,240
Church Pastoral Aid . . . 18,900
Clerical Aid . . . . . 7,818
Colonial Church .... 1,700
Colonial Missionary . . . 2,200
District Visiting . . . . 250
Foreign Aid 1,935
Gospel Propagation . . . 66,213
Hibernian . . . . , 7,050
Home and Colonial Infant
School (1841) .... 1,905
Home Missionary , . . 9,402
Irish 4,136
Irish Evangelical, about . 2,000
Jews, for Propagation of
Christianity among the . 24,699
Operative Converts'
Institution .... 799
London City Mission . . 5,534
London Missionary . . 80,874
Lord's Day Observance . 513
Moravian Missionary . . 10,651
National School, annual sub-
scriptions, about . . . 6,000
Naval and Military Bible* 2,809
New British and Foreign
Temperance *
Newfoundland School .
Peace*
Prayer Book and Homily^
Protestant Association .
Religious Tract '*' . . .
2,137
3,470
768
2,496
1,376
56,014
2,811
Sailors' Home ....
Scottish United Secession
Mission Fund . . . . 4,196
Sunday School Union* . . 10,241
Suppression of Intemperance 908
Trinitarian Bible * . . . 2,201
Wesley an Missionary . 101,618
very uninformed, minds ; there were, however, many of a better description. By degrees, the worst of the profane
and vicious publications were supplanted. The supply from the Society, of Hawkers' Tracts, fairly met them in
the general market, and was generally preferred wherever education had extended ; but it was plain that, had not
a superior article been supplied, the old wretched tracts would still liave been forced upon the Sunday school
scholars, and others who were acquiring the ability to read. And in the year 1818, the public cry was changed ;
it was then generally said, this series must be improved. This was done ; several of the old tracts were discon-
tinued : and many others were introduced much superior. — Abridged from the Christian Spectator for July^ 1839.
* The total of the receipts of the Societies thus marked includes sales of publications.
256
LONDON.
The Hanover Square rooms are occasionally used for the meetings of religious
societies, but the place is not so favourable as Exeter Hall to the enthusiasm of
an audience, at least any warmth of feeling which is excited is expressed far less
lustily, if with more decorum. Freemasons' Hall, a very fine room for the pur-
pose, is also still used by religious bodies ; but there is an increasing disposition
to assemble at Exeter Hall, which combines every convenience necessary, and is
in a good situation with regard to other parts of the town. Our view of the in-
terior of the great hall represents the great exhibition of Mr. Hullah's system of
popular singing, when 2000 pupils combined their voices in the performances.
Concerts not unfrequently take place at Exeter Hall, besides being the place
where Mr. Hullah's musical classes and the drawing classes (both under the
Committee of Privy Council on Education) assemble for instruction.
[Iute;it>r of Exeter Hall.]
[The Carnivora Terrace, now in course of erection.]
CXVIL— THE GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY.
If one were desired to name the most delightful lounge in the metropolis,
difficult as the task of selection might seem to be amidst so many attractive
spots, the Zoological Gardens in the Regent's Park must, we think, be the chosen
place. Equally suited to the young and the old^ the solitary and the gregarious,
the cheerful and the melancholy, the ignorant and the learned, all are here sure
of enjoyment at least, and it will be strange indeed if instruction, in some shape
or other, does not follow. Pacing its broad terrace-walks, or winding about
among its leafy passages; here idly pausing to glance at some newly-blown
flower, there (where the unoccupied seat wooes us) at some picturesque com-
bination of tall waving trees, reflected with all their restless lights and shadows
in the clear waters of the little lake at their feet, like a second green world
below ; leaning now against the parapet of the bridge over the tunnel to gaze on
the comparatively comprehensive view of the demesne thence obtained, with
the mounts, and dells, and islands, and lawns, and parterres, and rustic habitations
so harmoniously intermingled ; and, now, descending to the stern-looking depths
beneath, where, with the carriages of fashionable London rolling incessantly over
your head at the distance of but a few feet, you may imagine, without any great
exertion of the fancy, that you have accidentally wandered into the remote sub-
terranean habitation of some hermit, who, in this gloom, finds his eyes more
naturally turn their glance inwards to the contemplation of his own nature, to
whom this deep silence is dear, since it enables him the better to hear the voice
of his own heart; — thus or similarly occupied, we might saunter through the
VOL. v. s
258 LONDON.
Gardens without missing or desiring any other sources of interest. But the
beautiful place has its own proper inhabitants : turn that corner, and you are
tete-a-tete Avith a tall dromedary ; cross that velvet lawn, with its richly blooming
beds of flowers, and you are suddenly arrested by a couching lioness ; here you
open the door of a pretty-looking piece of Swiss architecture, and are in a kind
of domestic '' wilderness of monkeys ;" there, as you are trying to make out what
forms there are in the cages on one side of a dark passage, a tap on the shoulder
makes you suddenly turn in alarm towards the other, where you perceive dimly
some vast moving bulk, to find the outlines of v/hich your eyes rise higher and
higher, till at last an elephant's gigantic frame becomes visible, his trunk near
enough to take you up, so that he may more conveniently see who you are, should
he be so minded : it is not till we are out of that narrow passage, and secure
from any tnore such surprises, that we can satisfy ourselves that a friendly shake
of the hand, in elephant-fashion, was most probably all that was desired, unless
indeed we chose to add thereto any little delicacies from the adjoining refectory —
trifling but satisfactory proofs of our friendship, which the elephant, iii his cordial
good-nature, never takes amiss. But the number and variety of these inhabit-
ants ! — there really seems no end to them. A visiter who, after spending some
hours here, sauntering hither and thither, just as curiosity or impulse guided,
should discover a good half of the collection, would deserve every praise for his
industry and tact. Still more surprising, rightly considered, than even the num-
ber and variety of the families that compose this strangest of villages, are the
differences as to the quarters of the globe from whence they have respectively
come. Listen but to the characteristic sounds that rise from time to time : the
low growl of the bears from the eternal snows of the Polar regions ; the hoarse
screams and piercing cries of the tropical birds, whose plumage speaks them the
children of the sun ; the magnificent bay of the Spanish bloodhound ; — but, in short,
the whole world has been ransacked to people these few acres of soil, Avhere the
magic of skill and enterprise has overcome all difficulties — reconciled conflicting
seasons, and tempers, and habits — formed, from the most heterogeneous of ma-
terials, one of the most thriving, and orderly, and happiest of communities. How
admirably man can govern everything but himself!
At the very entrance-gates of the Gardens, we meet with an amusing illustration
of the oddities, to say the least of them, that characterise the dealings of men
with each other, even here. Admission to the Gardens, it may be necessary to
inform our country readers, is obtained by the presentation of a ticket (admitting
any number), signed by a fellow of the Society, and on payment of a shilling for
each person. Two young genteel-looking females have been waiting for some
time, looking with a peculiar air of curiosity in the faces of those who enter ; at
last, seeing a party of ladies and gentlemen stop for the same purpose — one of them
modestly steps up and begs permission to enter as part of their company. Sur-
prise appears on the face of the lady addressed, but another steps forward, remark-
ing, ^' O, yes ! it is a common request ;" and the whole enter ; the money-taker
at the lodge, who could hardly avoid seeing what passed, making no comment.
Musing upon this, and remembering our own mode of obtaining a ticket — that
is, by simply asking for it at a neighbouring tavern—one must be in a serious
THE GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 259
mood to be able to avoid a hearty laugh as we read the announcement care-
fully set up over the gates, requesting, on the part of the Society, that the
fellows would not give tickets except to persons with whom they were acquainted !
The effect therefore of this very sensible arrangement is, that uninformed, or
peculiarly scrupulous persons, have frequently to put themselves to inconveni-
ence to obtain introductions to fellows of the Society, whilst those of a more
doubtful character, the very persons whom it might be supposed the Society
wished to keep out, have only to put on their hat, see that they have got a shil-
ling in their pockets, and, if they don't choose to trouble the tavern-keeper, trust
with perfect confidence to the passing in, under cover of some other person or
party's ticket at the gate. If any of the attendants of the animals were to
exhibit eccentricities of this character in their treatment of them, we wonder how
long they would remain the Society's servants? We are in, however, and more
agreeable subjects for thought await us. A broad terrace walk extends from the
little rustic lodges at the entrance, in a straight line onwards, bordered by flowers,
shrubs, and trees on each side, and which is now continued at the same level for
some distance, over the lower ground, by a handsome viaduct, which, when com-
pleted, and all its roomy cages beneath occupied, will form the most striking
feature of the Gardens. Here the carnivorous animals, — the lions, tigers,
leopards, &c. are to be located, instead of, as at present, in the Repository, in a
distant part of the grounds ; and it is considered by having a large space for
exercise and for the admission of fresh air, set apart for each animal, with a small
sleeping place behind, that artificial warmth maybe dispensed with, to the advan-
tage of the animal's health: hence the size of the cages shown in our engraving.
Branching to the right of the terrace-walk, immediately on our entering, we find
a winding path among lofty bushes and trees, presently opening on our left, and
presenting a fme view over the Park, in the foreground of which the beautiful
zebra, known as Burchell's, is seen grazing among other novel-looking inhabitants
for an English pasture ground; and continuing along the same path, on our
right, appears a series of tall broad aviaries, containing some of those splendid
domestic birds of the farm-yards of Peru and Mexico, the curassows ; and which,
in a wild state, are so common in the woods of Guiana that a hungry traveller
looks upon them as a certain resource when ordinary provisions fail, for their
flesh is white and excellent, and their disposition so accommodating that they
will remain perfectly quiet on their perches in the trees whilst he helps himself
to his mind and appetite. It may not be generally known that these birds may
be bred with as much ease in England as our own poultry. Returning to the
terrace, we may remark by the way, that the accurate 'List of the Animals,' sold
in the Gardens, occupies no less than twenty-eight closely printed octavo pages ;
and therefore, that in our notice of the Gardens, we can aim only to give a kind
of general view of their contents, pausing here and there over such details only
as seem to us of peculiar interest and moment. At the point of junction of the
terrace walk and the Carnivorci Terrace on the right, in a deep square pit, are
those two amusing climbers, the cinnamon beats, male and female. They are
idle this afternoon, and not even a cake will tempt them to mount the tall pole.
Their prenomen is derived from their handsome brown coats, in which, as well as
s 2
260
LONDON.
in locality and in greater ferocity in their natural state, they differ from the Ame-
rican black bears, of which species they are considered to be a variety : specimens
of the latter are also to be found in the Gardens. It is these last-mentioned
animals whose furs constitute so important a portion of the business of the
Hudson's Bay Company. They are caught chiefly in their winter retreats, places
scooped out by themselves beneath fallen trees, where they retire as the snow-
storms begin to fall, and are soon as snugly enveloped as any bear can desire.
Unfortunately, however, the sagacious hunter has a mode of discovering them even
here : their breath makes a small opening in the snow, round which the hoar-
frost gathers : the hunter sees that, and his prey is secure. Descending by a cir-
cuitous path on the left of the terrace, commanding a charming little bit of
scenery, with a lawn and pond in the foreground at the bottom, we find a large
octagonal cage, splendid with macaws, in all their red and yellow and red and
blue plumage ; and who, by their most un-bird-like tumult, seem desirous to show
that there is some truth in the philosopher's idea of a kind of compensating prin-
ciple in nature : it seems we must not expect the songs of the nightingale, the
lark, or the blackbird from such magnificently arranged exteriors, or that the
last-named birds, whilst enchanting our ears, should at the same time dazzle our
eyes. The path, now running between the macaws' cage and the llama-house
opposite, conducts us to the lawn rich with purple beech^ and with its sparkling
little piece of water, dotted over with aquatic birds — among which black swans
are conspicuous— and with little raised nests or boxes. In the centre a fountain
" Shakes its loosening silver in the sun."
A beautiful and very familiar species of Coreopsis geese, from New Holland,
deservedly attract much attention. They are numerous, and have been all bred
from a single pair. These might be naturalised in our farm-yards, and their
flesh is said, by some travellers, to be more delicate than that of the English
bird. The following drawing was made from a pair hatched in the Gardens.
[Coreopsis Geese.]
THE GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 261
Whistling ducks, sheldrakes, and garganey teal, are here also to be found.
The llama house has its large court-yard behind, and both are on a scale be-
fitting personages of such importance. At present we see a pair of dromedaries
are taking the air in the latter, and putting their heads over the palings to make
acquaintance with us, and who could refuse anything to such gentle and expres-
sive looks ? Finely has the dromedary been called the Ship of the Desert, not
simply from his being the grand agent of commerce and travel over the vast
seas of sand, but from his very appearance ; that long curving neck, and loftily-
borne, outstretched head, might have been the origin of the prow of an ancient
galley. As they here slowly move to and fro^ one would hardly suppose they
are the animals so famous for their speed as well as power ; whose fleetness,
indeed, has passed into a proverb, in a country distinguished at the same time for
the finest horses in the world. *' When thou shalt meet a heirie," say the
Arabs, referring to the dromedary, " and say to the rider, ' Salem Aleik,' ere he
shall have answered thee ' Aleik Salem,' he will be afar off, and nearly out of
sight, for his swiftness is like the wind.' In the centre of a piece of pasture-
ground, adjoining the llama precincts, is a curious little open hut, with projecting
eaves, raised upon large masses of rock. A horned sheep, the mouflon, is confined
in it ; an animal so little like its parents (for it is supposed to be originally but
the descendant of some of the common sheep that had escaped from human do-
minion), as to require to be strongly chained up, where he can do no harm with
that tremendous butt of his, which is so powerful as to break down the strongest
ordinary fences. To the right of the llama house, is a court-yard surrounding
the base of the viaduct at this end, and lined with cages. Here is the Siberian
bear, with a broad white band round its neck, and its small sharp-pointed nose,
forming a marked contrast with its gigantic round body and head. Here, too, are
the wolves, the original, according to our best naturalists, of all the varieties of dog.
One of the most interesting, though of course by no means the most conclusive
evidence to be given of this, is its capability of an attachment to man, as strong
as that of the dog. These Gardens furnish one very striking illustration, where
a she-wolf some years ago actually killed all her young, in the warmth of her
zeal, in bringing them to the front of the cage, and rubbing them against the
bars, to receive the caresses of those persons she knew, among whom Mr. Bell,
the naturalist, from whom the account is derived, was an especial favourite.
Among its descendants of the dog kind, if descendants they be, two of the most
interesting are to be found in close approximation to the wolves — the Esquimaux
dog, and the Cuba bloodhound, whose deep, yet loud bay, we have before referred
to. This clean limbed, handsome-looking animal, with his light fawn-coloured
skin, suggests but little in his appearance, of the terror his very name yet ex-
cites, under certain circumstances ; and which led to the introduction of a great
number of them, during the Maroon war in Jamaica in the last century, to which
their very presence put an entire stop, the Maroons being too much alarmed to
continue the contest. The ordinary use to which these dogs are put by the
Spaniards is to drive the wild bullocks from the more inaccessible parts of the
country, to spots convenient for the hunters, who slaughter them for the sake of
the hide. They thus obtain the skill and habits desired for the more terrible
262
LONDON.
purposes which they occasionally subserve under the care of their masters, the
Chasseurs, as they are called ; such are the pursuit of murderers and felons, whom
it is said they will not harm, unless resistance be offered. Having stopped the
fugitive, they crouch near him, and by barking occasionally, guide the Chasseurs
to the spot; should the miserable wretch but stir, there is a most ferocious growl
by way of warning. In Dallas' ' History of the Maroons,' an anecdote is given
of the extent of their accomplishments in this way, which seems truly marvellous.
A ship, attached to a fleet under convoy to England, was manned chiefly by
Spanish sailors, who, as they passed Cuba, took the opportunity of running the
vessel on shore, when they murdered the officers, and other Englishmen on board,
and carried off all the available plunder into the mountains of the interior. The
place was wild and unfrequented, and they fully expected to elude all pursuit.
The moment, however, the news reached the Havanna, a detachment of twelve
Chasseurs, with their dogs, was sent off". The result was that in a few days the
whole of the murderers were brought in and executed, not a man having been
injured by the dogs in the capture.
[Chasseur and Cuba Bloodhounds.]
Near these dogs, are a miscellaneous collection of American and Indian foxes,
racoons, the American black bear, and the brown bear, so well known to visiters
for its amusing antics. It is a bear of excellent sense at the same time. As we
approach its cage, it reminds us of a very proper preliminary by thrusting its
THE GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 263
nose between the bars, and opening its jaws as wide as possible; but our stock
of delicacies is exhausted, so, having waited a reasonable time^ without any re-
jsult, it moves away with an air of philosophic indifference, and gets rid of any
little disappointment it may feel, by a short walk. We are not much accustomed
to look on these animals with any feeling of respect or gratitude for their services
to man, yet ask the Kamtchatkan what he thinks of the brown bear ; or rather
ask him what he does with it, and you will know well enough how he must esti-
mate it. He will tell you he not only eats the flesh, but with a relish ; that he
makes its skin serve for bed, bedding, hat, gloves^ and overalls; that its stretched
intestines serve him at once for glass to his windows, and masks to his face, pro-
tecting it from the sun's glare in the spring ; lastly, that the very shoulder
blades become useful in the cutting of grass. This is the same bear which was, at
one time, common in our own country, where however we have found no other use
for it than such as the bear gardens could furnish, or those itinerating bear-lead-
ers so often seen even but a few years ago in our streets, who, taking advantage
of the peculiar formation of the sole of the animal's foot, taught it to dance for
exhibition. Several temporary cages and buildings of enclosure are scattered
about this part of the grounds, in which are gnu antelopes, Mexican and other
deer (among which the beautiful roebuck delights the eye by its feminine grace
and delicacy), sloth bears and Malayan sun-bears, the last, the veriest epicures,
perhaps, of the menagerie. In their wild state, the tender young shoots of the
cocoa nut tree, and honey, form their chief enjoyments, but when domesticated,
nothing less than the choicest luxuries of the table will suffice. Sir Stamford
-Raffles, the founder of the Gardens, had one, which he kept in the nursery with
his children, and occasionally admitted to his table, where he partook of the finest
wines and fruit. Sir Stamford says, the only times he knew him out of temper
was when there was no champagne forthcoming. In the same building with the
bears are some beautifully spotted Asiatic leopards, and several of those sub-
jects alike of ancient and modern fable, the hyaenas, both spotted and striped,
from Africa. Some of the old stories have a touch of poetry about them ;
according to one, the hyaena was accustomed to imitate the language of men, in
order to attract wandering shepherds, whom it then devoured. As to modern no-
tions, one of the females here gives a sufficient proof of their incorrectness : it is,
in the words of the catalogue, '' remarkably tame." After all, it is not unworthy
of notice, that the popular faith in marvels generally has some foundation, even
if that foundation and the superstructure do not particularly harmonize. The
true account of the hyaena, by one who had studied the animal well in all its
habits, would need no adventitious aid to give it interest. The real stories told
of it are most appalling;- especially those relating to its love of human flesh,
as in the case of children, Avhom it can manage to carry off" without difficulty.
'' To show clearly," says Mr. Steedman, in his ^Wanderings and Adventures in
the Interior of Southern Africa,' ^nhe preference of the wolf (Spotted Hyaena) for
human flesh, it will be necessary to notice, that when the Mambookies build their
houses, which are in form like bee-hives, and tolerably large, often eighteen or
twenty feet in diameter, the floor is raised at the higher or back part of the
house, until within three or four feet of the front, where it suddenly terminates.
264 LONDON.
leaving an area from thence to the wall, in which every night the calves are tied
to protect them from the storms or wild beasts. Now it would be natural to
suppose, that should the wolf enter, he would seize the first object for his prey,
especially as the natives always lie with the fire at their feet; but notwith-
standing this, the constant practice of this animal has been, in every instance, to
pass by the calves in the area, and even by the fire, and to take the children from
under the mother's kaross, and this in such a gentle and cautious manner, that
the poor parent has been unconscious of the loss, until the cries of her poor little
innocent have reached her from without when a close prisoner in the jaws of the
monster."
At some distance beyond the termination of the viaduct, and in the same line,
a piece of water attracts attention, even more by its own beauty than by the
variety of its aquatic inhabitants. Small but luxuriantly-wooded islands are
scattered about the centre, the banks are thickly fringed with reeds, and bordered
by elegantly-flowering shrubs, suitable to the kind of scenery indicated ; and
altogether it is impossible to imagine a much happier existence than these
waddling, and swimming, and diving rogues here enjoy — these Brent, and Cana-
dian, and Chinese, and Egyptian, and laughing geese — these tufted, and cross-
bred pintail, and penguin ducks — these teal, and shovellers, and pochards. In
his way, too, the polar bear, in the neighbourhood of the pond, is luxuriantly
lodged; he has got his comfortable den, and his pool of water, where he may
swim about, and fancy he is once more breasting the seas of the polar regions,
swimming his thirty or forty miles at a time, as they have been seen in Barrow's
Straits. It is true a seal now and then would perhaps make him more comfort-
able, of which animal he is the great tormentor ; but Cant-be is the most per-
suasive of practical philosophers, and seldom fails in teaching resignation. The
monkey -poles, close by, are as yet unoccupied, through the coldness of the season,
so we pass on to the condor's cage. This bird's real size, which is among the
largest of the vulture family, measuring occasionally no less than fourteen feet
from tip to tip of wing, when outspread, is perfectly insignificant compared to its
old repute, when it was esteemed to be the veritable roc of the ' Arabian Nights.'
And that there was such a bird who could doubt, after seeing or reading of that
famous '' claw of the bird roc, who, as authors report, is able to trusse an ele-
phant," which was in the famous museum of the Tradescants? there was no
resisting the claw. Fortunately, however, the roc still keeps in his mysterious
solitude, and the condor proves to be a very different bird ; which is also fortu-
nate, for as there is scarcely any killing him, but that, such as he is, he must
remain till he pleases in his own good time to die, there is no saying what
would become of the world had a race of immortal rocs taken possession of it.
As an instance of this remarkable tenacity of life in the condor, we remember
that Humboldt describes some Indians strangling one with a lasso, who after-
wards hung it upon a tree, and pulled it forcibly by the feet for some time.
They then took it down, removed the lasso, and the condor got up and walked
about as though nothing particular had happened.
But what is this great pile of rock-work, almost big enough for a human
habitation, covered with foliage, and surrounded by its own little but deep lake
THE GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 265
»f water ? The tenant must be of sadly vagrant habits to desire to leave such a
pmplete little estate, yet the wire-work over the whole seems to indicate as
nuch. That is the otter's home, one of the great centres of attraction in the
xardens at the animal's dinner-time, when live fish are thrown into the water,
Fhich he catches with astonishing skill and rapidity. The means at his disposal
or this purpose have been thus beautifully described : '' How silently is the
yater entered ! The eyes are so placed that, whether the animal is swimming
)elow its prey, behind it, above it, or beside it, their situation, or, at most, the
east motion of the head and neck, brings it within the sphere of the pursuer's
nsion. The whole framework of the animal — its short fin-like legs, oary feet,
ind rudder of a tail — enable it to make the swiftest turns, nay, almost bounds,
n the water, according as the rapidity of its agile prey demands a sudden down-
vard dive, an upward spring, or a side snap. The short fur, which is close and
ine, keeps the body at a proper temperature, and the longer and outer hairs,
lirected backwards, enable it to glide through the water, when propelled hori-
zontally by its webbed feet beneath the surface, noiselessly and speedily. Easy
md elegant in its motions, there are few objects more attractive in menageries
han the pond, especially if it be kept clean and supplied with clear water,
vherein the otter is seen to hunt its living prey;"* as is the case in the
nteresting little spot before us. An enclosure eastward of the otter's cage con-
ains two weazel-headed armadillos, from South America, where the carcases of
;he wild buffaloes, slaughtered as before mentioned, form a never-ending feast
ibr these little gluttons, who go on eating and eating, and fattening and fatten-
ing, till their plump condition attracts the eyes of the human inhabitants of the
district, who then, placing them on the fire in their shell, make the (for them)
most delicious of all roasts.
We have now reached a kind of central spot of the portion of the gardens that
lies on this side of the Park- road, and a charming little place it is, with walks
branching off in different directions, each between its own high green and blooming
Ibanks, with lawns, and beds of flowers in the centre, a pretty -looking and elegantly
furnished-building for refreshment on one side^ the monkey-house on another,
the otter and other cages, just mentioned, on a third. The monkey-house has a
wired enclosure, extending all along one side, for their out-door enjoyments in
the summer ; but as, it appears, we are not to have any of that almost forgotten
season, in this year of 1843, we must step into the house, if we wish to pay
our respects to these most amusing of organised beings. For our part, we do
not understand how it is physicians are so often puzzled by cases of hypochondria :
why do they not send their patients here ? Look at that beau, examining his
nails with as much attention as if to have a fine hand were the end and aim of
monkey existence. Another, after a series of gambols, for your especial benefit,
apparently, as a stranger, stops suddenly, and cocks his eye, and tail circling over
his head, at you with the most irresistible effect. This little fellow here appears
to be puzzled to know what we are doing with our note-book and pencil, so
mounts quietly up the wires, till he can look down upon the paper. As to their
* * Penny Cyclopaedia,' article Otter.
266
LONDON.
gambols, a school broke up for the holidays seems but a faint imitation. Theii
power of locomotion is familiar to every one^ but really, the amazing distance tc
which some of these monkeys can throw themselves (for that word expresses but
the character of many of these movements), scarcely appears less wonderful
for the fiftieth than for the first time. Among the other striking features oi
the monkey-house, that our space alone admits of our noticing, is the sonorous bark
of one of the baboons, the human-like character of that cluster of faces of the
bonnet monkeys, and the exceeding grace and prettiness of the diminutive
marmozets. A variety of objects must here be passed summarily over, such as
the ponds for the American teal, ducks, &c. ; the beaver enclosure, not yet oc-
cupied by beavers, or we must have paused there; the building containing the
family of birds, in which the destructive power has been developed to its highest
extent, the vultures and eagles, — some of the latter, as the Brazilian Caracara
eagles, remarkably beautiful; the parrot-house, containing the finest living col-
lection in the world of the most beautiful of all birds, macaws, cockatoos, parra-
keets, which combine with the loveliest of known tints, great docilit}^ imitative
power, and attachment to those who are kind to them, in a state of domesticity,
and where, in cages, are specimens of the terrible tiger boa, and of the siren, a
kind of serpent, with short arms, hands, and feet ; and the aviary for small birds,
a handsome-looking semicircular piece of architecture, where among weaver
birds, and Paradise grackles, and rice-birds, and mocking-birds, a brilliant scarlet
ibis especially attracts the eye. We now cross the bridge over the mouth of the
tunnel, from which the following view is taken, and then pass on to the owls' cages,
where, at this moment, three are sitting in one compartment, side by side, so grave,
[View of the Gardens from the Bridge*]
i
THE GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 267
ilemn, and judge-like, as to provoke the remembrance of the old jest of their
ikeness to a bench of magistrates ; thence to the dove-cote ; and to the cattle-sheds,
vjiere with a Sing-sing antelope, and a paco, is kept a bison, a formidable look-
ijg animal, seen thus solitary and in captivity, but which must be indeed terrible
hen beheld almost covering, with their immense numbers, the savannahs of the
pmoter districts of North America, or as when Lewis and Clarke watched them,
Tossing a river in such multitudes that, although the river was a mile broad,
he herd stretched, as thick as they could swim together^ from side to side.
In the eagle aviary, among other specimens of the genera, are golden eagles, and
[white-headed sea eagles; from the former of which the young Indian warrior
jhas been accustomed to obtain he plume which he so much prizes, that instances
have been known of his exchanging a valuable horse for the tail feathers of a
jsingle bird, whilst, from the latter, the United States have borrowed their
'national emblem. Franklin has a delightful passage on the habits of this bird,
and its unfitness for the honour done to it. He says, '• For my part, I wish the
bald eagle had not been chosen as the representative of our country. He is a bird
of bad moral character; he does not get his living honestly. You may have seen
him perched on some dead tree, where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches
the labours of the fishing-hawk ; and when that diligent bird has at length taken
a fish, and is bearing it to his nest, for the support of his mate and young ones,
■the bald eagle pursues him and takes it from him. With all this injustice, he is
•never in good case, but like those among men v/ho live by sharping and robbing,
he is generally poor, and often very lousy. Besides, he is a rank coward ; the
jlittle king-bird, not bigger than a sparrow, attacks him boldly, and drives him
'out of the district. He is therefore by no means a proper emblem for the brave
and honest Cincinnati of America, who have driven all king-birds from our coun-
try, though exactly fit for that order of knights which the French call Chevaliers
d' Industrie f' and also, for that order, undreamt of by the philosopher and patriot
and honest man, from whose writings we have transcribed the foregoing passage
I (fortunately for his peace of mind), and as yet unnamed in scientific books, though
too generally known, by this time, the world over, as the repudiators. Near the
[aviary is another pond for geese, where the wild swans should not be passed without
notice, not simply as natives of Great Britain which have occupied in past times so
much Royal attention, but as the species which has in all probability given rise to
the beautiful fable, so celebrated by our poets, of its dying amid the sounds of its
own music. And here, again, it seems there is the slightest possible groundwork for
the idea ; its note, which resembles the word hoop uttered several times in suc-
cession, is said not to be unmusical heard from above, as the birds sweep along
in their wedge-shaped array. The last of the objects on this side of the park-
road, that we shall notice, are the emus, kept in an enclosure just behind the ter-
race-walk, toward which we have been circuitously returning. These are among
the wonders of the animal creation — creatures with wings, that cannot fly, birds
with the habits and strength of limb of quadrupeds. The emus, for instance,
kick out like a horse, and the blow is strong enough to break a limb. The
family of emus includes also the ostrich, of v>^hich an individual specimen has just
arrived in the Gardens, the cassov/ary, and the dodo, once thought to be fabulous.
268 LONDON.
but now pretty well proved to have existed, though^ it is to be feared, existino-
no longer.
Having passed through the tunnel, by which the grounds on the opposite sides
of the park-road are connected, we reach the secluded-looking spot, completely
embosomed in lofty trees, and with steep banks sloping down towards the waters
of the Regent's Canal, where the repository is situated in which carnivorous
animals are at present kept during the erection of the terrace already mentioned.
On their removal, the present structure, with a new one now building by its side,
will contain the Museum, which is rich in materials illustrative of the general
objects of the Society. In the Repository we find additional specimens of the
leopards, whose tastes, when opportunity is given for their development, seem to
be in harmony with their appearance. A lady, Mrs. Bowdich, now Mrs, Lee,
won the heart of one of these animals by lavender water, which it was so extra- 1
vagantly fond of, as to be trained into the habitual sheathing of its claws, by the
mere punishment of the loss of this luxury when it did not. Here, too, are
pumas, or panthers, often erroneously called lions, as in the case of the late
Mr. Kean's favourite animal, which was a puma, and a very interesting specimen, j
as showing the erroneousness of the received opinion that the puma was irre- '
claimable. No dog could be tamer or more docile than Mr. Kean's Tom, which
it will be remembered was the gift of Lord Byron. Ocelots, cheetahs, or hunt-
ing leopards, with lions and tigers, are to be found also in the Repository. Models
of strength, and of that beauty at least which results from extraordinary fitness j
of means for an end, as one gazes long and earnestly upon these latter named
animals, which have from the earliest ages engaged so much of the world's attention,
we can partly understand the almost miraculous feats attributed to them. Leaps
of twenty feet or so are mere bagatelles with both the lion and the tiger; man is
like a plaything in their grasp ; the powerful Indian buffalo can be carried off by
them without difficulty. No wonder, then, that the sound of their roar in their
native forests inspires terror in the bravest man, as well as in the most timid
beast. Perhaps the most curious proof of the alarm excited by these animals
is the existence of a little community, whose residence and entire mode of life is
specially arranged for the avoidance of their attacks. When two travellers,
Messrs. Schoon and M'Luckie, penetrated into a certain portion of the interior
of South Africa, in 1829, they found a large tree containing seventeen huts of a
conical form, built in three tiers on the branches, which were supported by poles,
the lowest tier about nine feet above the ground. It appeared they were the
dormitories of natives, who had built them there in consequence of the great
increase of the lions in the district, after an incursion of a neighbouring tribe,
when many thousand persons were slain. The ascent was by means of notches
in the poles, the huts were regularly thatched, and would hold two persons
conveniently. During the heat of the day, the space beneath the tree afforded
a very pleasant shade for the owners to sit in. Several deserted villages, built
in the same way, were also seen by the travellers. Yet who, as they look
upon the noble creature before us, as we see him at this moment, answering with
a kind of proud gentleness the fondling of the lioness, would suppose this to be
the animal so much dreaded? He may not deserve the character for magnani-
THE GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 269
ity he has enjoyed ; but he certainly looks '' every inch a king" of the animal
ibes.
Near the Kepository is a long range of kennels, for a most complete and valu-
ble collection of dogs, who are at present enjoying the air at the length of their
3thers in front. Here are the watch-dogs from Thibet, the Grecian greyhound,
le Persian sheep-dog, Spanish bloodhounds, a dog from the Celestial Empire,
Spanish mastiff, the famous dog of Mount St. Bernard (of which so many
mantic stories are told, in relation to its services to travellers and others
st in the snows of those Alpine regions), Australian and Newfoundland dogs,
c. Our way now lies through a long and narrow leafy avenue, the extremity of
hich is lost in the distant foliage, and from which we turn off to the ostrich-
ouse, where at present are kept a pair of nyl-ghaus, the largest and most mag-
lificent of antelopes, and whose strength is commensurate with their appearance.
Their temper, unfortunately, is none of the best, and woe to that animal who,
aeeting them in their own dense Indian forests, shall be the object of their
i^rath, as they bend their fore-knees, and advance in that position to the spot
rem whence they make their tremendous spring. The wapiti deer (the ass of his
tamily, both in stupidity and voice, which is not unlike the bray) is still grander
n his appearance than the nyl-ghau antelope, his common height being four feet
ind a half at the shoulder, or a foot higher than the common stag. This deer is
|:ept in the building, with a dark passage running through the centre, before inci-
lentally alluded to, which lies still farther westward (the direction we have been
Dursuing), with other deer, the elephant, the Brahmin bull and cows (most inte-
•esting animals), and a Cape buffalo, which, unlike the lion, carries, as it were,
vritten upon his visage and entire appearance, a most suggestive history of
j'erocity and irresistible violence. That solid mass of horn covering his forehead,
[ike a broad band rising toward the centre into a kind of double hemispherical
jjhape, must make his head impregnable, a perfect battering-ram, whenever it
jshall please him so to use it. And many are the stories told by Thunberg,
jBruce, and other travellers, showing that the buffalo has not the smallest indis-
position to do so with or without provocation. The elephant-house is the next
object of attraction, in which we find the stupendous Indian elephant, and
that comparatively rare animal in England, the one-horned, or Indian rhinoceros
I — the original, no doubt, of the popular unicorn. The horn of the animal
here is merely a bony protuberance over his nose, in consequence of his habit of
rubbing it against the sides of the cage ; in other respects it is one of the largest
^and finest animals of the kind ever exhibited in England. The horn is shown in
its natural state in the following engraving. A curious trait of this animal —
a portion, no doubt, of those natural instincts given to it for its defence in its
ordinary state of life — is its liability to excitement from hearing any unusual noise.
When in the yard at the back, the sound of the roller on an adjoining walk has
made it rush towards the fence in that direction with great violence, and rear
itself up. Considering its alleged hostility to the elephant, the juxtaposition
here is curious ; and has led, through accident, to a very striking disproof of the
notion. One day the rhinoceros got into the elephant's apartment, and so far from
quarrelling, the two seem to have made a sudden and eternal friendship. One
270 LONDON.
[Rhinoceros, from the specimen in the Gardens.
of the most entertaining things in the Gardens is to see the two enjoying a bathe
in their pond in the spacious court-yard behind, or to see, what we ourselves
missed on our visit, but has been described by others, how quiet the rhinoceros
will stand whilst his great friend scrubs his back with his trunk, and occasionally
gratifies himself by a sly pull at his tail, to make the rhinoceros turn his head, if
his attention be taken off by visitors.
We are now approaching the extremity of the Gardens^ where, completely em-
bosomed in the green wood, are various buildings scattered about, as that for the
peccary sties, where are two of the most interesting of the swine family — the
famous wild boar of our royal and noble hunters, for killing which a Saxon lost his
eyes, under the rule of the Conqueror — and the collared peccary, from South Ame-
rica— really a beautiful little pig, with slender delicate legs and feet, intelligent
aspect, and particularly clean appearance. Here also are the houses of the superin-
tendent and head keeper ; the former having one of its rooms devoted to the re-
ception of a varietyof small tender quadrupeds, as the flying opossum, the brown
coati-mundi, the golden agouti, porcupine, Indian tiger-cat, jerboas, &c. &c. And,
lastly, a remarkably lofty building appears before us, with an enclosed yard on the
left, where the trees, fenced to a most unusual height, and with a projecting guard
at the top of each fence, seems to imply we have got among some creatures
from the scene of Swift's geographical discoveries —that mysterious land of Broh-
dignag, which not all British skill, and capital, and enterprise, have yet been
able to find the way to. And when we do get within the building, and behold
the scene shown in our engraving, when we perceive it is the giraffe-house
and park that we have been gazing on, it is difficult to resist the impression,
that these most beautiful and delicate, but, to the very eyes that behold
them, almost incredibly tall creatures cannot belong to any part of our
planet with which w^e have been hitherto familiar. There are now four here;
two adult males and one female, and one young one born in the Gardens, and
enjoying, we are happy to say, excellent health. The female also is again with
THE GARDENS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY.
271
.[The Giraffe House]
foung. In the same house with the giraffes is an animal that more than divides
/ith them the attention and curiosity of visitors; this is the female ourang-outan,
rhich, as the Society's Report for the present year informs us, has now lived
.early three years and a half in the Gardens, or nearly twice as long as any in-
lividual of the species was ever known to live in Europe before. Lady Jane, as
he is here called, is altogether of a higher grade than her kindred of the mon-
:ey tribe. She does not condescend much to gambols ; but ask her to do any-
hing sensible, as, for instance, to sit down and take a comfortable cup of tea,
,nd she will do it with the most amusing gravity and precision. But tea-
[rinking Avith her is altogether a solemn and ceremonious, albeit daily, proceed-
ng ; so she first submits herself to her keeper, to have a befitting dress for the
ccasion put on, and then places her table, lays the cloth, sits down, and sips the
ea from the cup and saucer, holding a kind of conversation with the keeper at the
ame time. The peculiar low noise with which she intimates her assent to his
lotions, when she approves of them, is more than entertaining ; it really seems
0 suggest so much of what she would say, had not speech been denied. The
ifectionateness of her disposition is very touching. As the keeper leans over
jLer, she will put up her long arm_, and clasp him round the neck, as though she
jcally felt all his attentions and kindness. We have yet much to learn as to the
|rue mental powers and characteristics of such animals, and as to their relation
|dth our own.
It will be seen from the foregoing account, that the available funds of the So-
iety must have been of no ordinary amount. From the financial accounts now
'efore us, it appears that the expenditure on the Gardens from 1825, the year of
ommencement, up to the end of 1840, was in general terms 188,000/. This im-
lense sum has been derived chiefly from two sources, in very nearly equal pro-
I
272 LONDON.
portions, namely, the payments of the members or fellows (each 5/. for admission
and 3/. annually), and the shilling admission fees of visitors. In the year 1842,
the receipts from the former source have been 45421. I3s., and from the latter,
4021/. 136'. The number of fellows, and fellows elect, at the present time, is
2478, or 412 less than 1839. The falling off in this respect is attributed, no
doubt correctly, to the retirement of such of the earlier members as cared simply
for the place as a fashionable Sunday lounge, and the similar decline in the num-
ber of visitors, to those casual influences, which all exhibitions are liable to. The
removal of the Museum to the Gardens, the erection of the new Carnivora Terrace,
and the proposed addition of an excellent military band, will no doubt do much to
remedy both these causes of decline. But at all events, the Society can now rely
upon a certain amount of permanent support, which we are happy to say is amply
sufficient to keep these beautiful and interesting Gardens in all their present re-
putation and value.
[View of the old Stage and Balcony.]
CXVIIL— THE THEATRES OF LONDON.
Scarcely less surprising than the greatness of the drama of the Elizabethan
;ra, is the suddenness of its growth, and the extraordinary contrast presented by
t to all that had gone before : growth, indeed, seems hardly a fitting word to
haracterise so instantaneous and important and complete a change. Up to the
^ear 1580, and probably a little later, not a single dramatic writer or a single
Iramatic piece had appeared, the names of which now excite any interest beyond
hat of their position as links between the old moral plays and the modern drama;
ifteen years elapse, and behold ! — Munday, Chettle, Kyd, Lodge, Greene, Lyly,
S^ash, and Peele, are familiar names ; Marlowe has Avritten ' Tamburlaine,' 'Dr.
^^austus,' 'The Jew of Malta,' and ' Edward II. ;' above all, Shakspere has given
0 the world nearly one half of his entire works. The fact is established, in the
■pinion of the writer of this article, in the recent pictorial edition of his works,
hat Shakspere, instead of being, as we have hitherto generally supposed, a fol-
ower in point of time of the Peeles and Greenes and Marlowes, and therefore
eriving no inconsiderable advantage from their works and example, was really
trictly contemporary with them. It has been shown in the work referred to,
hat whilst we know of the existence, in 1598, of at least sixteen of Shakspere's
1 lays, some of these, of high excellence, must have been produced considerably
efore 1591, when Spenser, in the ' Tears of the Muses,' laments the temporary
ithdrawal of some one who had
" the comic stage,
With season'd wit, and goodly pleasure, graced,"
nd describes the writer thus unmistakeably, as
VOL. V. T
274 LONDON.
" the man whom Nature self had made
To mock herself, and Truth to imitate
With kindly counter, under mimic shade :
Our pleasant Willy, ah, is dead of late," &c.
Lastly, it is now known, through Mr. Collier's researches, that Shakspere, so earl
as 1589, was a shareholder in the Blackfriars Theatre, with a fourth of the othe;
sharers below him on the proprietors' list. Now there is nothing in Shaksperel
subsequent career as an actor to lead us to suppose he could have obtained sue
a position as this at the age of twenty-five from the exercise of his talents thai
way ; yet look at him as a writer, and the matter is at once explained. Bu
then there is that odd idea of the older commentators, that every body rath
than he began to write early. Few persons would suppose, from merely readin
their speculations, that whilst the three writers we have mentioned were
about Shakspere's own age, the greatest of them, Marlowe, is supposed to havl
been a year younger ;'^ and secondly, that after all, there is every reason to supl
pose they had done very little at the period when it is all but certain that Shak
spere had done much : by 1589 Marlowe had written ' Tamburlaine the Great^
and probably the ' Massacre of Paris/ and Peele and Greene may have ead
produced one or two pieces for the stage, as they are supposed to have connectei
themselves with it a year or two before ; but this is pretty well all that can 1:^
said for the precedence of these early contemporaries of Shakspere, and proves, ii
connexion with what has been previously advanced, to our mind, something ver]
like the reverse. On the whole, then, it will be seen that Dryden knew perfect!;
well what he was about when he said, Shakspere '•' created the stage among us.'
Up to the period we have referred to, 1595, it was still, however, but the basi
of the wonderful structure of the English national drama that had been laid ; fo
the completion of the work we must look a few years further on, — to a time whei
Shakspere had closed his career, and when a host of other writers had arisen, im
bued generally, though of course in a lower degree, with the same lofty spiril
and kindred talents. Many of these, indeed, for their own permanent popularit
had better have appeared at any other time : a Shakspere only could have ovei
shadowed them. Considering how little these writers are now generally read i
comparison with their extraordinary excellence, one cannot but remark how di]
ferent would be the fate of almost any one of them, could his lot have been cas
in the nineteenth instead of the seventeenth century. What should not we thin!
of a Ben Jonson, or a pair of Beaumonts and Fletchers, or a Massinger now
What might not be the effect of their writings on the present fortunes of th
national theatres ? Yet even these are but removed by the faintest possible line
of demarcation of rank from Ford, whom Lamb calls of '' the first order of poets;
or Webster, with that '' wild, solemn, preternatural cast of grief which bewildei
us in the 'Duchess of Malfy' " of which the same critic speaks ; or George Chaj
man, with his ''full heightened style," as his brother poet Webster calls it
or Hey wood, the "prose Shakspere;" or Dekker, or Rowley, or Middleton, (
Daniel, or Shirley, — but there is no end to the list, and it is almost as id!
to attempt now to familiarise them separately to the public, as to point out tb
stars of the milky way. Let us now turn our attention to an instructive con
* He was born, according to Malone, in 1565.
\i
THE THEATRES OF LONDON,
275
3ntary upon all this amazing variety and height of intellectual power, the
ite of the theatres in London in which that power was exhibited.
Although the earliest public Theatres seem to have been established during
e continuance of a pertinacious struggle between the players and play-lovers
the one side, and the civic power on the other (who held the stage and every-
ing connected with it in especial dislike), they had become very numerous by
3 time the great writers we have mentioned were prepared to raise them into
sir true importance and value. For their success in this struggle, the players
re evidently indebted to the court favour they enjoyed, which, in 1583, was
i[\ ^nalised by Elizabeth's choosing, from among the different companies ac-
stomed to perform before her, twelve of the best actors, and forming them
;o a company, under her own especial patronage. The chief London theatres
that period were these : — The Theatre, especially so called, in Shoreditch,
d the Curtain close by ; Paris Garden, Bankside^ chiefly used as a Bear
LThe Paris Garden Theatre, Southwark.J
irden, but also for the performance of plays, as Dekker, in his satire upon
Inson, makes the latter say he had played Zulziman there; the Blackfriars,
fhitefriars, Salisbury Court, Kose, Hope, Swan, Newington, Red Bull, and
)ckpit or Phoenix in Drury Lane. Various places of minor importance were also
dfied by the name of Theatre, as the Inn Yard of the ^Bel Savage,' remark-
[ie, according to Prynne, '' for the visible apparition of the Devil upon the
Lge," on one occasion, daring Elizabeth's reign. We learn what was the
[mber of actors at the same time in the metropolis, from a letter to Secretary
[alsingham, in 1586, which, after referring to the different companies, as the
icen'sj Lord Leicester's, Lord Oxford's, Lord Nottingham's, and other noble-
m's then performing, states the number of players as not less than two hundred.
these theatres, the Blackfriars is the one that most deeply interests us :
was there, in all probability, Shakspere made his first appearance both as
t2
276 LONDON.
actor and writer ; it was there, certainly, that he established his reputation. Th(
Blackfriars (and, it is supposed, others also of those we have mentioned, as th(
Curtain) were erected immediately after — and inconsequence of the entire expul
sion of players from the limits of the City by the Lord Mayor and Aldermen ii
157.5; who, however, gained little more by the movement than the exhibition o
a kind of successful contempt of their authority, in the erection of such houses ai
the Theatre in the Blackfriars, under their very noses, but, owing to the old mo
nastic privileges, beyond their jurisdiction. Two companies, it appears, had th(
right of playing at this house, the one that Shakspere belonged to (the Lore
Chamberlain's) and that of the Children of the Chapel, afterwards (on James'i
accession) known as the Children of her Majesty's Revels, who played regulai
pieces the same as their older rivals; as, for instance, Ben Jonson's 'Case ii
Altered' in 1599, and his ' Cynthia's Revels' in 1600. The proprietor o
the Blackfriars, in fee, was Richard Burbage ; and he probably let the theatre
to the Children of the Revels, in the summer season, whilst he and his brother'
shareholders acted at the Globe. The noticeable passage in ' Hamlet' referf|
to them, and to the neglect experienced by the players at some particulaij
period, through the overweening admiration of the public for these tiny rel
presentatives of the drama ; who, it should seem, also, had been accustomed t(
injure the regular theatres by more direct modes of attack. " There is, sir,';
says Rosencrantz, '' an aiery of children, little eyases, that cry out on th
top of question, and are most tyrannically clapped for 't : these are now tbl
fashion; and so berattle the common stages (so they call them), that many
wearing rapiers, are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither.'' Am
in the kindly and thoughtful spirit of Hamlet's reply there is evidence that thi
complaint may have been made in no selfish spirit : — '' Will they pursue thi
quality no longer than they can sing?" he asks, " Will they not say afterwards
if they should grow themselves to common players (as it is like most, if ther
means are no better), their writers do them wrong, to make them exclaim agains
their own succession ?" The Blackfriars was one of those theatres distinguishec
by the title of private, and which were entirely roofed over, instead of, as in thos<
which were public, merely the stage portion ; which had a pit instead of a men
enclosed yard ; in which performances took place by candle light; and where thi
visitors, being altogether of a higher class, enjoyed especial accommodations
among which, the right to sit on the stage during the progress of the play wai
the feature most peculiar to the time. In the public theatres this last-men
tioned custom also prevailed ; influential persons no doubt being permitted to d(
so without comment, and impudent ones taking permission in order to show theii
impudence, or to display their new dresses to the audience in all their bravery
The stools used by such persons were hired at sixpence each. The Blackfriari
was probably pulled down soon after the permanent close of the Theatres, during
the Commonwealth, by the Puritans ; the locality is still marked by the nam(
Playhouse Yard, near Apothecaries' Hall.
The other Theatre which Shakspere has bound so closely up with his own his
tory, and to which, therefore, a similar kind of interest ^is attached, was tht
Globe, erected about 1593; and, it is highly probable, in consequence of th(
growing prosperity of the Lord Chamberlain's servants, who desired a roomie
house, a more public field for exertion. This was the largest and best of ih
ill
m
THE THEATRES OF LONDON.
277
leatres yet raised ; as is clear from the care of AUeyn and Henslowe, in the
k-ection of the Fortune, soon after, on a still larger scale, to imitate all its ar-
ingements, excepting the shape. Yet what the Globe was, Shakspere himself has
^)ld us in the preliminary chorus to ' Henry the Fifth :' —
" Pardon, gentles all,
The flat unraised spirit, that hath dared
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object: Can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France ? or may we cram
Within this loooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt ?"
'hat then ?
'* Piece out oiU' imperfections with your thoughts,"
the bidding of the poet ; and he spoke to an audience who could do even
Jtter than that, Avho could forget them altogether, in their apprehension of the
biritual grandeur and magnificence that was then with them in the cockpit.
[The Globe Theatre, BauksidL-.]
'here is something, it must be owned, occasionally amusing as well as delightful
the simplicity of the old stage : in Greene's ' Pinner of Wakefield ' two parties
|re quarrelling, and one of them says, *' Come, sir, will you come to the town's
id, now?" in order to fight. '•' Aye, sir, come," answers the other; and both
len, we presume, move a few feet across the stage to another part, but evidently
lat is all, for in the next line the same speaker continues, '* Now we are at the
)wn's end — what shall we say now?" But if the audiences of the sixteenth cen-
iry were by no means critical about the appliances of the drama, the case was
[ery different as to the drama itself. Jonson gives us a pleasant peep into the
iterior of a theatre of the time on the first night of a new piece : *'But the
Iport is at a new play to observe the sway and variety of opinion that passeth it.
man shall have such a confused mixture of judgment poured out in the throng
lere, as ridiculous as laughter itself. One says he likes not the writing, another
[ikes not the plot, another not the playing ; and sometimes a fellow that comes
lot there past once in five years, at a Parliament time or so, will be as deep
aixed in censuring as the best, and swear by God's foot he would never stir his
278 LONDON.
foot to see a hundred such as that is." * Then, as now^ it seems, managers, in
bringing out new pieces, were not insensible to the advantages of accompanyingj
them with novel or greatly improved theatrical effects. It was possibly one of'
these that led to the catastrophe at the Globe Theatre in 1613, on an important
occasion of thiskind, when there was no doubt an unusually brilliant audience assem-i
bled. Jonson was among them, as we learn from his * Execration of Vulcan' for his
doings in the affair; which are thus described by Sir Henry Wotton, in a letter;
to his nephew, dated the 29th of June : " Now, to let matters of state sleep, I
will entertain you at present with what hath happened this week at the Bank-
side. The King's players had a new play, called ' All is True,' representing]
some principal pieces of the reign of Henry VHI., which was set forth with many!
extraordinary circumstances of pomp and majesty, even to the matting of the|
stage; the knights of the order with their Georges and garters, the guards with]
their embroidered coats, and the like; sufficient, in truth, within a while, to 1
make greatness very familiar, if not ridiculous. Now King Henry, making a!
mask at the Cardinal Wolsey's house, and certain cannons being shot off at his
entry, some of the paper or other stuff wherewith one of them was stopped did
light on the thatch, where, being thought at first but an idle smoke, and their
eyes more attentive to the show, it kindled inwardly, and ran round like a train,
consuming, within less than an hour, the whole house to the very grounds.
This was the fatal period of that virtuous fabric, wherein yet nothing did perish
but wood and straw and a few forsaken cloaks ; only one man had his breeches
set on fire, that perhaps had broiled him, if he had not, by the benefit of a provi-
dent wit, put it out with bottle ale." This play, there is little doubt, was
Shakspere's ' Henry VIII.,' having perhaps ' All is True ' for a first title ; for
not only does the prologue contain various passages illustrative of the idea the
author desired to impress of the tridh of the story, but another recorder of the
event, Thomas Lorkin, in a letter to Sir Thomas Puckering, expressly calls
it ' Henry VIII. ' ; and, lastly, we read in the original stage directions of Shak-
spere's pla}'. Act I., Scene 4, *' drums a?id trumpets, chambers discharged,^' under
the precise circumstances described by Sir Henry Wotton. The Globe was
rebuilt next year, when Taylor, the water-poet, noticing it, says —
*' — where before it had a thatched hide
Now to a stately theatre is turn'd."
Like the Blackfriars, it was most probably pulled down during the Common-
wealth.
The Fortune Theatre, built about 1599, proved truly a fortune to its chief
owner, Alleyn, the actor and founder of Dulwich College. Here the Lord
Admiral's servants performed. From the indenture between Alleyn and Hens-
lowe, his co-partner, on the one side, and the builder. Street, on the other, we
learn that the house had three tiers, consisting of boxes, rooms, and galleries ; that
there were " two-penny rooms," and " gentlemen's;" that the width of the stage
was forty-three feet, and the depth thirty-nine and a half, including, however, we
should presume, the 'tiring house at the back. In connexion with these particulars,
the view of the old stage we have given, with that important and most useful por-
tion of it, the balcony, copied from an engraving in the title-page of ' Roxana,' a
* i
Case is Altered,' Act il. Sc. 4,
THE THEATRES OF LONDON.
279
<atin pla}^ by William Alabaster, 1632, may not be unacceptable. The balcony
Lppears to have been so managed, that when not in use by the players, it might
)e occupied by some of the audience. We see at a glance in this design, the means
jy which many of the old stage directions were fulfilled, as '' Enter Romeo and
[uliet at the window." In the balcony, too, would sit the Court in ' Hamlet ' dur-
ig the performance of the play, and in similar cases of a play within a play. It
las been supposed that the names of the theatres were borrowed from their re-
spective signs, or, at least, that they had signs exhibited without of the nature
Indicated by their titles. This was certainly the case as regards AUeyn's
fheatre, as Heywood speaks of —
" — the picture of dame Fortune
Before the Fortune playhouse."
[The Fortune Theatre, Golden Lane, Barbican, as it appeared 1790.]
There was, however, a much more useful andcharacteristicsignof the theatres.
As the time oF performance approaches, about three in the afternoon, ^' each play-
house advanceth his flags in the air, whither quickly, at the waving thereof, are
summoned whole troops of men, women, and children.''* To the particulars
already incidentally given, we may now add a few others. And first as to actors,
many of whom, we need hardly remind our readers, were poets also, like their
great exemplar, Shakspere ; and were generally, there is every reason to be-
lieve, worthy of the dramas they represented. The chief men of note, besides
Shakspere himself, whose names have been preserved in connexion with
his plays, were Burbage, the original Richard the Third; Heminge and
Condell, Shakspere's friends and literary executors, who, '' without ambition
either of self- profit or fame — only to keep the memory of so worthy a friend and
fellow alive as was our Shakspere," published the first edition of his collected
works; Taylor, the original Hamlet ; Kemp; Sly; Lowin; Field, &c. Actors
* William Parkes' « Curtain Drawn of the World, 1612.
280 LONDON.
of this rank generally participated in the profits of the company to which they
belonged, as whole sharers, three-quarter sharers, or half-sharers ; whilst the
remaining performers were either hired at regular weekly salaries (six shillings
seems to have been an ordinary rate of payment), or were apprenticed to par-
ticular members of the company. The emoluments of the sharers were, no doubt,
considerable, as, in addition to their ordinary public business, they were frequently
called upon to play before the Court, for which the usual payment, at one time,
was ten pounds ; and at the mansions of the nobility on extraordinary cases of
state, at christenings, and at marriages. The price of admission seems to have
varied not only at the different theatres, but at different times in the same
theatre. Ben Jonson has told us in an amusing passage what they were in 1614,
when his 'Bartholomew Fair ' was acted at the Hope. In the Induction he says,
" It shall be lawful for any man to judge his six-pennyworth, his twelve-penny-
worth, so to his eighteenpence, two shillings, half-a-crown, to the value of his
place, provided always his place get not above his wit." But Dekker speaks of
your groundling and gallery commoner buying his sport for a penny ; and other
writers also of the " penny bench theatres,'' referring most likely to theatres of
a lower grade than any we have enumerated. Of moveable painted scenes, the
theatres of the Shaksperian era were not entirely deficient ; but in the earliest pe-
riod we had '' Thebes written in great letters on an old door," when the audience
were desired to understand the scene lay in that place, and which Sir Philip Sidney
ridicules. Hence the briefest, but most significant of stage directions in ' Selimus,
Emperor of the Turks,' published in 1594, where, when the hero is conveying
his father's dead body in solemn state to the Temple of Mahomet, all parties are
quietly told to " suppose the Temple of Mahomet^ A great many difficulties
might be got rid of by this principle, which, however, was not stretched too far.
Our forefathers were not required to suppose the descent of the cauldron in
* Macbeth,' as there were trap-doors ; nay, upon occasion, still more difficult feats
of ingenuity were accomplished. In the directions to Greene's ' Alphonsus ' we
read, '^ after you have sounded thrice, let Venus be let down from the top of the
stage, and when she is down, say ;" again, in another part, '' Exit Venus. Or, if
you can conveniently, let a chair come down from the top of the stage, and draw
her up."
JBut in dresses and properties the stage of the Shaksperian era seems to have
been rich enough to compare with the stage of the present day -, nay, it is pro-
bable, that in comparison with the size of its theatres, and the number of its actors,
it surpassed ours in the splendour and value of the wardrobe. In Henslowe's
' Inventory,' we find, among other and still more expensive items of dress, one of a
" Eobe for to go invisible," which, with a gown, cost 3/. lO^". of the money of the
sixteenth century. The daylight performances, it is to be observed, would make
it indispensable to have articles of a better quality than now. As to properties,
though they had not attained the completeness of Covent Garden in these
matters, where the property-man tells us he has almost everything in creation —
from the fly to the whale — under his charge ; yet it will be seen in the follow-
ing mock heroic account of an adventure in the theatre, by R. Brome, in ' The
Antipodes,' 1640, that their possessions were" far from contemptible. Bye-play is
speaking of Peregrine : —
THE THEATRES OF LONDON. 281
** He has got into our tiring-house amongst us,
And ta'en a strict survey of all our properties,
Our statues and our images of gods,
Our planets and our constellations.
Our giants, monsters, furies, beasts, and bugbears.
Our helmets, shields, and vizors, hair, and beards,
.. Our pasteboard marchpanes and our wooden pies.
Whether he thought 'twas some enchanted castle.
Or temple hung and pil'd with monuments
Of uncouth and of various aspects,
V I dive not to his thoughts : wonder he did
y Awhile, it seem'd, but yet undaunted stood ;
When on the sudden, with thrice knightly force,
And thrice thrice puissant arm, he snatcheth down
The sword and shield that I played Bevis with,
Rusheth amongst the foresaid properties.
Kills monster after monster, takes the puppets
Prisoners, knocks down the Cyclops, tumbles all
Our jigamobobs and trinkets to the wall.
Spying at last the crown and royal robes
I' th' upper wardrobe, next to which by chance
The devil's vizors hung, and their flame-painted
Skin-coats, these he remov'd with greater fury,
And (having cut the infernal ugly faces
All into mammocks) with a reverend hand.
He takes the imperial diadem, and crowns
Himself King of the Antipodes, and believes
He has justly gained the kingdom by his conquest."
When these lines were written, enemies of a more real kind were preparing
for an onslaught into the strongholds of the profession ; the players were to
gather soon for the support of a '' crown and royal robes," which should be no
mimic toys of the 'tiring-room, but the symbols of a mighty power round which,
both in attack and defence, armies of Englishmen would congregate, and where
they would find what one of their number had in another sense desired —
" A kingdom for a stage, princes to act.
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene I"
In 1642 appeared an ordinance of the Long Parliament, commanding the cessa-
tion of plays, on the ground that '^public sports do not well agree with public
calamities, nor public stage-plays with the seasons of humiliation, this being an
exercise of sad and pious solemnity, and the other being spectacles of pleasure,
too commonly expressing lascivious mirth and levity." For a time the ordinance
was obeyed, though of course a cruel one to the actors, whose means of existence
were annihilated ; but gradually theatres opened again, first in one quarter and
then in another, and by 1647 the ordinance seems to have been almost forgotten.
A second then appeared, dealing in a more summary mode with all offenders,
directing the governing powers and magistracy of London and adjoining counties
to enter houses where performances were taking place, arrest the players, and
commit them for trial at the next sessions, there to be *' punished as rogues ac-
cording to law." Even this being found insufficient, the Lords and Commons
met and debated the matter warmly, and at last an Act was passed on the 11th
of February, 1648, which, after denouncing stage-plays, interludes, and common
plays as " the occasion of many and sundry great vices and disorders, tending to
the high provocation of God's wrath and displeasure, which lies heavy upon this
282 LONDON.
kingdom," ordained the demolition of all stage galleries, seats and boxes used
for performances, and the punishment of convicted players with open and public
whipping for the first offence, and with still severer penalties for a second.
No wonder we hear of so many of the players joining the ranks of the Cava-
liers during the Civil War, where, it may be added, they are understood to have
honourably distinguished themselves. Some few actors, however, appear to
have kept together, and acted occasionally in private at the residences of noble-
men and others in the vicinity of London without interruption : Holland House
was one of these places. Under Cromwell there was still greater toleration, as
Sir William D' Avenant gave " entertainments of declamation and music, after
the manner of the ancients, at Rutland House, Charter House Square," in 1656,
and in 1658 re-opened the Cockpit in Drury Lane, where he performed without
molestation until the Restoration. A new era then opened for the drama.
Perhaps the most characteristic feature of the restored English theatre was
its extraordinary facility for extracting the evil out of everything it touched.
The Elizabethan drama was not forgotten — far from it ; there is scarcely a gross-
ness in those old writers which the new ones did not now imitate and greatly
improve upon ; they only forgot the truth and vividness of character and life
that accompanied them — their high sentiment, their noble passions, their won-
derful ever-gushing fount of poetry. So again with the French drama, which
they so much admired : they borrowed from it an air of conventional stiffness and
formality which did not sit altogether ungracefully on a truly great poet like
Corneille, whose spirit v/as cast in the antique mould ; but that air they mistook
for him. Lastly, when they began to turn their eyes homewards, and inquire what
materials for an English play English society might afford, nothing can be more
perfect than the tact with which, in their comedies for instance, they avoided
whatever was solid, or permanent, or productive of true genial humour and uni-
versal wit. Their wit, for no one can deny the brilliancy of their repartee, was
conventional. One has only to ask where we should look for the greatest amount
of conjoined frivolity, and profligacy, and sensuality, during the reign which was
as a perfect hotbed to these vices, and there we shall find the greatest dramatic
writers of the latter part of the seventeenth century, from Dry den and Wycherley
to Congreve and Vanbrugh. They have had their reward. One or two solitary
plays (the ' Provoked Husband') of all the dramatic writings of these men, who
were so well calculated by nature to support the reputation of a national drama,
alone, we believe, remains upon the stage. But in the precise proportion that
they are neglected now, were they read, and acted, and enjoyed then. Universal
popularity among playgoers was theirs — unbounded the royal admiration and
approval of their works. Theatres filled — in opposition to the puritan spirit it
became a proof of loyalty to attend them — managers smiled, there was no
stirring in society but they met the echoes of their own wit. D'Avenant was the
first to profit by so cheering a state of things, both as manager and author, and
was certainly well fitted for his position. His residence in France had brought
his tastes into a state of proper harmony with those of his sovereign ; and the per-
sonal favours he enjoyed with Charles H. offered peculiar opportunities for the
diffusion of those tastes. He obtained a licence (the origin of the existing Covent
Garden patent right, as the licence granted at the same period to Killigrew is of
that of Drury Lane) and built a theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields, 1662, where.
THE THEATRES OF LONDON. 283
instead of the old half-lighted houses, wax-candles shed a brilliant blaze around,
moveable painted scenes were introduced — music, operas, and an orchestra.
But these novelties were as nothing compared to that of the appearance of
actresses on the stage, as a part of the regular company ; a feature so amazingly
relished by Charles and his courtiers (and, indeed, it had its peculiar advan-
tages for them, as we learn from the list of their female favourites) that
certain pieces — we need not describe them — were occasionally played by females
alone. It is pleasant to turn for a moment from these reminiscences to some of a
purer character. Shakspere's plays, or at least so much of them as met the ap-
proval of D'Avenant, were played in a style of high excellence. Many of the
actors were men of the old school, the remnants of the former companies ; and one of
them, Betterton, has, from all we can learn, never been surpassed in the perform-
ance of some of the grandest of the Shaksperian creations. And he has been
fortunate in having had critics at once capable of appreciating his excellence,
and enabling posterity to appreciate it too. ' Hamlet' was one of D'Avenant's early
revivals, and the story goes that the manager taught Betterton how Taylor,
whom he remembered, had acted the part from Shakspere's own instructions ;
but such acting as that described by Gibber in a well-known passage is learnt
from within, not from without; though in the general apprehension of a cha-
racter like Hamlet's, the smallest hint, no matter by what medium it came, from
the poet himself, would be of incalculable value.
Such a man was of course little fitted for the rhyming and eminently '• mouth-
ing " tragedies Dryden now poured forth in rapid succession, as if to show his
contempt for his own early avowed admiration for Shakspere, or, as we would
rather suggest, as if to give us unconsciously a proof of the high nobility of his
own spirit, by a public renunciation in his latter days of the entire principles
and practices of his dramatic career, — of his public return to the only true school,
from which he had unwisely or recklessly departed. There are few things in
literary history more instructive than this part of Dryden's life — nothing in all
his works, excellent as they are when not dramatic, that more elevates or endears
to us the memory of '' glorious John." The rise of the school of ^' genteel
comedy," as it has been called, is another interesting feature of the same reign,
for, impure as it was in the hands of its founders, it gradually lost that impurity,
whilst improving at the same time in excellences of a more positive character,
as it passed, step by step, from Congreve to Sheridan, who, whilst almost
rivalling the former writer in his own especial excellence, wit, has, in addition,
plot, and varied character, and moral purpose in his satires to which Congreve
could lay no claim. The English opera, too, must not be forgotten in reckoning
the demands of the era in question upon our attention. In 1673 appeared Shad-
well's ' Psyche,' with music by Matthew Lock ; and some years later Dryden's,
or rather Purcell's, ' King Arthur,' for the only valuable portion of the work is
the composer's. Those who availed themselves of the recent opportunity of
enjoying its music will not soon forget such passages as the frost scene, — such
duets as that of " Two daughters of this aged stream are we." Other works by
the same composer followed; then came Arne, and Jackson, and Linley, and
Bibdin, and Shield, and Storace, and gave us that school of genuine national
music which we know so well how to — forget.
We have now noticed the two most characteristic periods in the history of our
284 LONDON.
national drama, which is, in the best sense of the word, the history of our metro-
politan theatres ; and, long as is the period that has elapsed since the latest of
them, we can add no third. The fact is that, with here and there a few ex-
ceptions to the general current of theatrical literature, such as must arise in
every art from the peculiar characters of individuals, and which have given us
such genuine plays, even in the most unpromising of times, as Otway's 'Venice
Preserved,' or as some of the productions of an actor-dramatist of the present
day, our dramatic history may be summed up in three words: we have grown
as correct in everything as spiritless (' Cato,' and the plays of the Cato form in
the Anglo-French school, may be looked on as mere emanations of this feeling
of propriety, as far as their dramatic excellence is concerned) ; we have imported
— and subsequently worked hard at the same manufacture at home till we were
wearied of it — the Kotzebue- German productions of the ' Pizarro ' and ' Stranger'
classes ; we have established a melo-drama, w^hich may yet rise into respecta-
bility, with a few more well-intentioned mistakes on the parts of certain authors,
in thinking they are all the while writing plays. The dramatic-poem Avriters,
who so carefully disclaim all connexion with the theatre, of course may be here
disclaimed in return.
The Italian Opera, as something exotic in its origin, and still needing the
shelter of the aristocratic conservatory in which it was first planted, for its due
support, demands separate notice. The first building in the Haymarket was
erected by Vanbrugh at the beginning of the last century, the funds having been
provided by a numerous body of subscribers, among whom were the chief members
of the Kit-Cat Club. A rival house to Drury Lane, then enjoying a career of re-
markable prosperit}^ was the object of the builder, whose scheme for its attainment
was altogether a bold one ; namel}^ that of joining himself and Congreve as writers
and managers to such a company as Betterton and his companions, then playing at
the Tennis Court, in Lincoln's Inn Fields, as actors. All parties were sanguine as
to success ; the players, it appears, fancying the reputation of their literary allies,
and the grandeur of the new house, would cause the whole town to be attracted.
'' In this golden dream they however found themselves miserably deceived and
disappointed, as on the opening of this grand and superb structure it was imme-
diately discovered that almost every quality and convenience of a good theatre
had been sacrificed and neglected, to show the spectator a vast triumphal piece
of architecture ; and that the best play was less capable of delighting the auditor
here than it would be in the plain and unadorned house they had just come
from ; for what with their vast columns, their gilded cornices, and immoderately
high roof, scarce one word in ten could be distinctly heard. The extraordinary
and superfluous space occasioned such an undulation from the voice of every
actor, that, generally, what they said sounded like the gabbling of so many people
in the lofty aisles of a cathedral. The tone of a trumpet, or the swell of a mu-
sical voice, might be sweetened by it; but the articulate sounds of a speaking
voice were drowned by the hollow reverberations of one word upon another. 'Tis
true, the spectators were struck with surprise and wonder at the magnificent
appearance the house displayed in every way they turned their eyes. The
ceiling over the orchestra was a semi-oval arch, that sprung fifteen feet higher
from above the cornice. The ceiling over the pit, too, was still more raised ;
being one level line from the highest back part of the upper gallery to the front
THE THEATRES OF LONDON. 285
of the stage. The front boxes were a continued semicircle to the bare walls of
the house on each side, and the effect altogether was truly surprising. In the
course of two or three years the ceilings over both orchestra and pit were lowered ;
and instead of the semi-oval arch, that over the orchestra was made a flat, which
greatly improved the hearing."* The very defects of the house, however, helped
to promote certain schemes of Vanbrugh's in a new quarter. In July, 1703, inter-
ludes and musical entertainments of singing and dancing had been given in
Italian at York Buildings. Two years after, a regular dramatic Italian piece,
with the narrative and dialogue in recitative, but translated, and performed by
English actors and singers, was brought out at Drury Lane. Such were the
cautious steps by which the Italian Opera stole into this country. Vanbrugh, in
the same year, 1705, opened the new theatre, when, in addition to the English
play by Betterton's company, there was presented '' Signer Giacomo Greber's
' Loves of Ergosto,' set to Italian music." But the house failed the very first
season, not even the attraction, towards its close, so characteristic of the two mana-
gers, of the performance of *^Love for Love/ by women, serving to draw sufficient
audiences for above three nights. Better ton and his company returned to Lincoln's
Inn. The Italian Opera was more and more assiduously cultivated in succeed-
ing seasons, to prevent the utter ruin of the house from the continuous failure of
the English performances; in 1708, Operas were played in which Italian and
native singers were mingled; and, in 1710, the Italian Opera was introduced
entire at last, ^ Almahide' having been performed that year in the foreign lan-
guage, by foreign performers. The popularity which the Opera, or rather the
singers — who we suspect were much better appreciated than the composers whose
strains they warbled — soon obtained, may be illustrated by the well-known ex-
pression of a very enthusiastic lady, '' One God, one Farinelli ! "
On the individual histories of the three theatres that are alone licensed to play
the regular drama we cannot attempt to enter, but a few dates may be useful.
When D'Avenant obtained his licence, and formed his company under the title
of the Duke's Servants (the King's brother being their patron), Killigrew, as we
have before stated, obtained similar powers for the formation and employment of a
company at the old Cockpit in Drury Lane : these were to be the King's servants.
At the close of the century both patents had fallen into the same hands, those of
Rich, the pantomimist ; who, by his parsimony, excited so much disgust, that
Drury Lane was taken from him, and the licence granted to another party.
Steele's name was subsequently entered in the patent; but it was not till the ad-
vent upon the London stage of the most perfect actor, perhaps, the world has yet
seen, Garrick, that it obtained its highest state of repute and prosperity. In
1745 Garrick and Lacy purchased the theatre, enlarged the house, and opened it
with Johnson's well-known prologue. This was a new era of acting, if not of
writing; and one can very well understand the great Shaksperian services of
Garrick, if we consider that it was not alone the harmony resulting from the
greatest of actors representing the characters of the greatest of poets, but that
he appears to have been distinguished at the same time, like the poet, by the
naturalness of his style. In 1776 Sheridan became part-proprietor, and it was
during his government that the Theatre was destroyed by fire in 1809. The
* Wilkinson's Londina lllustrata.
286 LONDON.
present edifice was built by B. Wyatt, Esq. Coven t Garden Theatre owes its
rise to the loss of Drury Lane by Eich, as before stated. ' The Beggars' Opera '
having made ''Rich gay, and Gay rich/' the former grew more magnificent in
his ideas, and exerted himself to get a theatre erected in Covent Garden, which
he opened in 1733, Hogarth making memorable his transit from Lincoln's Inn
Fields by an amusing satirical print. This building was burnt in 1808, then re-
built by Smirke (after the model of the grand Doric Temple of Minerva at
Athens), adorned with statues and some beautiful basso-relievos by Flax-
man, and re-opened in 1809. It was here that Kemble carried on ' the work
of stao-e-reformation which Garrick had begun — here that for so many years
with his sister, the illustrious Siddons, he played the Shaksperian drama, as we
must scarcely hope ever again to see it played — and here, it must be added, that
he experienced, with an indignation that might lessen, but could not prevent, the
anguish of a high nature exposed to the most gross insults, what it is to be an
actor, if, under all circumstances, you will also be a man. It was the rise of
prices consequent on the opening of the new Theatre, under his management,
that brought on the notorious O. P. riots. The " Little Theatre in the
Haymarket " (as all its managers seem to call it^ with a sort of affec-
tionate patronising air, perhaps because, generally speaking, it seems to
have been the means of a very satisfactory kind of patronage of them)
was first erected about 1720. Here, in 1735, Henry Fielding opened the
season with the '' Great Mogul's Company," and acted his own Pasquin for
forty nights, when he was obliged to shut up the house in consequence of the
Licensing Act of 1736. And subsequently Foote, to avoid a similar conclusion,
gave ''tea," and made it one of the most popular places of amusement in London
by his own great but sadly misdirected talents. Lastly, we may observe that
the Haymarket owes its present privileges to nothing more nor less than Foote's
leg, which the comedian happening to break at a hunting party of fashionables,
when the Duke of York was present, obtained a licence for life for the Hay-
market as a summer theatre by way of compensation, and which was subsequently
made permanent : such are the considerations by which we decide in England
whether two — or three — theatres shall represent Shakspere ! The remaining
places of dramatic entertainment in the metropolis are the Lyceum or English
Opera House, the Adelphi, the Strand, the Olympic, the Princess's in Oxford
Street, a very beautiful little house of recent erection, the Prince's in St. James's
Street, the Royal Fitzroy or Queen's in Tottenham Street, Tottenham Court
Road, the City of London at Norton Falgate, Sadler's Wells, the Pavilion in
Whitechapel, and the Garrick in Goodman's Fields— all on the City side of the
water ; whilst on the other are the Surrey, the Victoria, and Astley's, the latter,
however, chiefly used for equestrian exhibitions. Here is ample room for the
expansion of a growing drama, whenever the legislature shall become convinced
that the people who attend all these minor theatres would really be no worse if
plays were substituted for burlettas, ' Love in a Village' for ' My Poll and my
Partner Joe,' Shakspere for Van Amburgh. Of course the patentees of the two
principal theatres must be perfectly indifferent by this time on the matter. It
would be too good a jest now to urge the possibility of injury to the properties
in their present state by any course that might be determined upon with respect
to the lesser houses, always excepting that a reversal of the former state of
THE THEATRES OF LONDON.
287
[The Adelphi Theatre.]
things could be settled by law : the regular drama to the minors, and the bur-
lettas, and nautical pieces, and the lions to the majors — that were something for
both parties; as equitable and suitable an adjustment perhaps as could be de-
vised. We commend it to the attention of those who have been very naturally
surprised and irritated at the late aspect of affairs, in which they have so deep
an interest ; who have seen the habitual course of these theatres interrupted, —
their best friends alienated, friends at least who had stood by these theatres in
their poverty and degradation, and were willing to stand by them apparently
through even worse stages of both, — their very character blackened by pretended
necessities^of reformation ; who, in short, had lived to see the preposterous attempt
made to preserve to their theatres these privileges by proving they were
deserved, and who of course, therefore, nipped the mischief in its bud : and if in so
doing they have lost their rents, who shall say they have not preserved at least what
appears to have been their consistent principles? But seriously, it must now be
evident to all reflecting persons^ that these patent rights must be abolished, before
the drama can be re-invigorated by the only certain cure — the creation of a new
288
LONDON.
literature, appealing to, and reflecting the feelings, ideas, and character of the
age; before a new, and, as a body, higher race of actors can arise to do justice
to such a literature ; before we shall be able to sit down in a house small enough
to enable us at once to see and to hear, and at the representation of a piece
worthy of a sensible man or woman's thoughtful attention. For all this there
needs only, we believe, a single and easy remedy, namely, '■ That," in the words
of an article on this long-debated question, written so far back as 1823,'^ ''the
theatres of the Metropolis should be licensed for the enactment of the English
drama without distinction or limit."
»^ In Knight's Quarterly Magazine; vol. i. p. 433.
[Covent Garden Theatre.]
II
[The Treasury from St. James's Park, 1775.]
CXIX.— THE TREASURY.
Captain Becropt, or some other of our recent visitors to the Niger, was re-
quested by one of the sable potentates of that region to bring him, from England,
a couple of brass guns, and a strong chest with iron bands and padlocks. His
Majesty wished for nothing more — if he had these he had everything. The guns
would bring him in money, and the chest would keep it safe. This negro prince
must have been a philosopher : Locke, Montesquieu, Bentham — not one of our
theorists upon government has ever simplified its principles to such an extent.
In practice, however, all governments have been much of a mind with the mo-
narch sage of Nigritia. The treasury is the key-stone of the arch of Govern-
ment. To get money, whether by brass guns or taxes, and to keep it safe,
whether in a chest with iron bands and locks, or in a Treasury, or in a Bank of
England, these constitute the Avhole duty of a statesman. There, then, in that
building which figures at the top of the present paper, is deposited the talisman
that keeps together the social fabric of the British empire. The seal of Solomon
possessed not a tithe of its mystic power.
We smile at the idea of a negro prince's treasury being formed out of the
chest, perhaps, of some sailor who may have died on the voyage out. The trans-
formation is not a whit more startling than that by which the royal Treasury of
England was manufactured out of a cock-pit. When bluff Harry VHI. had
stripped Wolsey of Whitehall, and some other valuable possessions, he con-
VOL. V. u
290 LONDON.
structed there for the amusement of his leisure hours, a tennis-court, a cock-pit,
and a bowllng'-green. The scenes of the more healthy and humane amusements
of tennis and bowling have left no trace behind them, but we can track the cock
pit through all its transmutations — from a place where cocks fought to a place
Avhere polemical divines and jobbing politicians wrangled, until it settled down
into a Treasury.
In the 3' ear of grace 1708, thus wrote Mr. Edward Hatton : — "The Treasury
ofSce is kept at the Cock-pit, near Whitehall, where the Lord High Treasurer sits
three or four times a week, to receive petitions and determine and settle matters,
and give orders, warrants, &c. relating to the public treasure and revenues, the
Customs, Excise, &c. being under his lordship's inspection." At that tim^e, there
fore, the Lord High Treasurer seems in a manner to have been little more than
a tenant at will in the Cock-pit. The Cock-pit was still the cock-pit in those
days, not the permanent office of the treasurer, much less was it the Treasury. It
might have pleased her Majesty Queen Anne to direct the Lord High Trea
surer, Sydney Earl of Godolphin, who was *' perfectly in the favour of his queen
and country, who had repeated their great satisfaction with his wise and frugal
management," to occupy some other apartments, the property of the crown.
Nay, the Lord High Treasurer had not the whole Cock-pit to himself, his
secretary and clerks; for ''the office of Trade and Plantations" (as yet there was
neither '' Board of Trade/' nor " Secretary of War and the Colonies") also found
a domicile in the Cock-pit. Then the Treasurer transformed the Cock-pit, by hisi
temporary occupancy, into a Treasury ; now the Treasury transforms its prin-
cipal occupant, loro tempore, into the First Lord of the Treasur}^ In those old
times the man made the office; in ours the office makes the man. Formerly the
nation was governed by statesmen ; now it is governed by offices and establish-
ments. The machinery which man has made whirls its maker about with or
against his will.
But to return to the Cock-pit. Pennant republished in his * London' an old
print of the Horse- Guards (that is, of the stables adjoining the Tilt-yard, occu-
pied by the horse-guards) in the time of Charles II., in which the Cock-pit,- the
future Treasury of England, occupies a tolerably conspicuous position. The
picture is in good moral keeping. Charles, Avith his spaniels, is lounging in front,
with an empty and expensive cockpit behind him, which in the reign of his niece
was to be converted by the '' frugal" Godolphin into a well-filled Treasury. This
is the part of the Treasury buildings which fronts Whitehall ; the venerable,
antique, somewhat moss-grown pile, stuck in between the smugness of the dowager
Lady Dover's round house and the equal smugness of the bastard Hellenism of
the new Board of Trade. This is in good moral keeping too. The Treasury
looks like an old shrivelled usurer, in an old-fashioned dress, standing between
two smart gentlemen arrayed in Stultz' last device.
The old office of Godolphin, hov^'ever, is but a small part of the modern Trea-
sury. Indeed, to judge by a plan of the interior in the King's Library, in the
British Museum, it would appear to be almost entirely occupied by the hall of
entrance, the porter's and watchman's lodges, and other subordinate receptacles.
Theofficesof the more important functionaries are in the large building behind
which fronts the esplanade in St. James's Park. It is not every man who is
gifted v/ith the power of painting pictures with words, as was the case with the
THE TREASURY. 291
gifted author of Londinum JRedivivum ; and, therefore — or because of its brevity
— we select his account of the rise and progress of the Treasury buildings as we
at present find them ; — " The Treasury is fronted by an ancient building next
Whitehall, strongly marked with modern alterations ; a passage hence leads to
the Park, and to an amazing number of apartments used for this extensive depart-
ment of administration. Several offices were destroyed in 1733, in order to erect
the present building facing the parade ; the expense of which was estimated at
9000/. The facade consists of a double basement of the Doric order, and a pro-
jection in the centre, on which are four Ionic pillars, supporting an entablature
and pediment.''
Malcolm, a man of almost as few words as ideas, simply tells us what the build-
ing is. Dodsley, who in 1761 favoured the world with a description of London,
and who having, in his earlier years, like Joseph Andrews, worn livery, and, like
his prototype, picked up a knowledge of criticism, pronounces judgment on its
merits : — '' The whole front is rustic ; it consists of three stories, of which the
•lowermost is of the basement kind, with small windows, though they are contained
in large arches. This story has the Tuscan proportion, and the second the Doric,
with arched windows of a good size ; but what is very singular, the upper part of
this story is adorned with the triglyphs and metopes of the Doric frieze, though
this range of ornament is supported by neither columns nor pilasters. Over this
story is a range of Ionic columns in the centre, supporting a pediment. Upon
the whole the Treasury must be allowed to be a building composed of very beau-
tiful parts, but it were to be wished they were fev/er and larger, as there is a
sufficient distance to view it." One is at a loss which to admire most — the reso-
lute manner in which the architect has crammed something from every school of
architecture into his truly ^' composite" building, or the equally resolute manner
in which his critic has crammed something from every jargon of criticism's Tower
of Babel into his remarks. From Dodsley's book, by the way, we learn that the
name Cock-pit still prevailed in his day. '' The Cock-pit, opposite to the Privy
Garden, is esteemed a part of the ancient Palace of Whitehall, and retains its
ancient name, though converted to very different uses from that of a Cock-pit.
This edifice, which is built with stone, is very old, and the outside next the
street has nothing to recommend it; but within it has several noble rooms and
apartments, as the council-chamber, &c."
Where the Treasury of the Kings of England had its abiding place — or, more
properly, as we shall show in the sequel, where its eidolon, or Platonic idea, lodged
before it took up its abode in the Cock-pit, were hard to say. The Exchequer,
which, in the reign of Edward L, was literally the King's strong-box, was, in
his time, lodged in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey. Madox, in his 'History of
the Exchequer,' intimates this while enumerating the duties of William de Eston,
admitted to be '^ tally-writer," which is still one of the designations of the auditor
of the receipt. '' To keep the keys of the King's Treasury (in the cloisters of
Westminster at that time), which do belong to the same Treasurers /iis stead,
and to enrol the receipts and issues made in the Exchequer of Receipt, &c., and
to write the Tallies of the Exchequer, and to do other things pertaining to that
office. And the said William was sworn, that he would behave himself well and
truly, and that he would not, by pretext of any precept from the treasurer, or
from his lieutenant" (the Chancellor of the Exchequer), " in his absence, or from
u2
292 LONDON.
any other, deliver any money out of the King's Treasury to any person without
the King's writ, or procure or consent to have the same delivered."
Madox's phrase, "Exchequer of Receipt," is one which came into use at an
early period in order to distinguish between the financial Exchequer and the
court of justice of that name. The Treasury is not the only department of
executive government which, having in rude and early times been invested with
judicial powers in certain classes of cases, has given rise to a tribunal which, re-
taining its old name, has become in time exclusively judicial. The Chancery is
still presided over by the Chancellor, but chancellors in our days are judges and
no longer prime ministers. The Court of Admiralty is a law court in which the
Commissioners of the Admiralty have no voice. The Judicial Committee of the
Privy Council is undergoing the process of transmutation into a Court of Appeal,
in which permanent, salaried judges will soon come to preside ; and the Court of
Exchequer has long ceased to have any connexion with the First Lord of the
Treasury or the Chancellor of the Exchequer. It was originally a court in which
controverted cases arising out of the collection of the revenue were decided. It
is the lowest in rank of the four courts of Westminster, and this has been ex-
plained on the ground that it was originally erected solely for the king's profit,
which was considered an object inferior to the general administration of justice
to the subject. As a superior Court of Record it was established by William
the Conqueror, as part of the Aula Regis, and reduced to its present order by
Edward I. The Chancellor of the Exchequer for the time being is nominally
one of the judges, but the real acting judges of Exchequer are the Chief Baron
and four other barons created by letters patent. The last Chancellor of the
Exchequer who sat in a judicial capacity was Sir Robert Walpole, in the case of
Naish against the East India Company, in the Michaelmas Term of 1735. His
interference was rendered necessary by the Judges being equally divided in
opinion. The Judges are called Barons on account of their having been origin-
ally chosen from among the parliamentary Barons. Formerly the Court of
Exchequer was held in the king's palace. Its treasury was the great deposit of
records from the other courts ; writs of summons to assemble the parliament were
issued by its officers ; and its acts and decrees, as they related almost entirely to
matters connected with the king's revenue, were not controlled by any other of
the king's ordinary courts of justice. It now consists of two divisions : one ex-
ercises jurisdiction in all cases relating to the customs and excise, and over revenue
matters generall}^; the other is subdivided into a court of common law, in which
all personal actions may be brought, and a court of equity. Private plaintiffs
were originally enabled to bring their actions in this court by a fictitious alle-
gation that they were the king's debtors : this lie was only dispensed with by
Act of Parliament in the second year of William IV.
All these strict injunctions were however insufficient at times to keep loose
livers from following the injunction of Sir John Falstaff, "Rob me the Ex-
chequer, Hal!" *'The Royal Treasury," says Maitland, speaking of 1304,
"being kept in the cloister of the abbey church of Westminster, the same was
robbed of a great sum of money. Edward, suspecting the monks to be the
robbers, immediately ordered the abbot and forty- nine of them to be appre-
hended and secured ; where they continued in duresse till the year after^ when
Edward, on Lady-day, repaired to the said church to return thanks to God and
THE TREASURY. 293
St. Edward for his great success against the Scots. On which occasion he gave
orders to discharge the monks : however, they were not put in execution till a
week after, out of pique to them, by the persons that were ordered to discharge
them."
Various have been the derivations assigned by etymological financiers to the
name Exchequer. The favourite one appears to be that which accounts for its
origin by the legend of the board being covered with a chequered cloth, on the
squares of which the various sums of money were deposited with a view to aid
the defective arithmetic of early times. This may or may not have been the
case, but the age which can be suspected of having recourse to such a rude and
simple device may also be conceived primitive enough to have had no better
place of deposit for the treasure than a strong chest, like that of our African
potentate. The facility with which the monks — or, supposing them to have been
innocent, the more adroit thieves whose scapegoats the holy fathers became —
got at the money in 1304 favours the notion. So do the singularly ambulatory
propensities with which the Exchequer appears to have been endowed in early
times. Kings thought no more of whisking away their Exchequer from one
place and depositing it in another, than modern gentlemen do of transporting
their portmanteaux by railroad. ''In this year" (1210), says Matthew of Paris,
'*^the king, upon some displeasure conceived against the Londoners, as a punish-
ment for the offence, removed the Exchequer from Westminster to Northampton."
Again, in the fifteenth year of Edward I., Maitland, quoting Madox, says : —
" Edward commanded the Barons of the Exchequer (whose financial duties, it
would appear from the context, had not then been entirely separated from their
judicial) to transfer that court to the Hustings of London, at which place I
imagine they audited the city accounts ; by the credit side of which the citizens
were indebted thirteen thousand two hundred and five pounds and threepence
halfpenny. But a mistake being made by my author either in the debit or
credit side of the said account ; therefore to make the balance answer, I shall
make the credit thirteen thousand eight hundred and seventy-one pounds and
threepence ; and by deducting twenty thousand marks of the debt from the same,
it will appear that the City stood then indebted to the king, according to my
author, four hundred and thirty-eight pounds six shillings and eleven pence."
This looks not unlike making the good city itself his Exchequer, and, indeed,
our kings, down to the time of Hampden and ship-money^ when men grew restive
and would understand the joke no longer, appear, when in want of money, to
have dipped their fingers in their subjects' pockets much more liberally than
into their own. The idea of allowing money to '' fructify" in the pockets of the
citizens for the use of government does not appear to be, after all, an original
discovery of the nineteenth century.
During the Wars of the Roses, and during what Clarendon has called " the
great rebellion," it is equally difficult to ascertain the precise locality of the
Exchequer. This, however, is owing to the *'embarras des richesses." In these
unsettled times each party had its own Exchequer, and it was rather a delicate
task to undertake to decide which was the true one. Henry VIII. 's Exchequer
was in the possessions of the suppressed monasteries, and that of his daughter
Elizabeth in the pockets of all the rich men who came in her way. After the
Restoration, Charles II. had an Exchequer, but he contrived to ruin its credit.
294 LONDON.
So it will be seen that the permanent, stationary character of the Treasury is not-
of much older date than the period at which we commenced our narrative of the
rise and progress of the Treasury buildings.
The theory, however, of the British Treasury was much the same during the
nomade period of its existence that it has continued to be in its settled and
citizen-like life. There was from the beginning a treasurer whose office it was
to devise schemes for raising money, to manage the royal property to the best
advantage^ and to strike out the most economical and efficient modes of ex-
penditure. He had even then the control of all the officers employed in collecting
the customs and royal revenues, the disposal of offices in the customs throughout
the kingdom, the nomination of escheators in the counties, and the leasing of
crown lands. Then, as a check upon the malversation of this officer, there was
the Exchequer, the great conservator of the revenues of the nation. " The Ex-
chequer," said Mr. Ellis, Clerk of the Pells, when examined before the Finance
Commissioners, " is at least coeval with the Norman Conquest, and has been
from its earliest institution looked to as a check upon the Lord High Treasurer,
and a protection for the king as well as for the subject, in the custody, payment,
and issue of the public money. The business of the Exchequer, in its simplest
form, is the receipt of the public money, and the issue of the same under orders
from the proper authority ; the second branch, that of issue, further involves
the most important duty of control ; while both require, in a matter of such
national and historical importance, the duty of record."
This is still the broad outline of the Treasury — of the Finance department of
State of Great Britain. The enormous magnitude of the empire has caused the
subordinate departments of Customs, the Mint, &c. to expand until they have
attained an organisation, an individual importance, a history of their own. The
different modes of transacting money-business, rendered necessary by its greater
amount and more complicated nature, have altered the routine both of the Trea-
sury and Exchequer ; the changed relations of king and parliament have sub-
jected the Treasury and Exchequer to new control and superintendence. Still
their mutual relations and the part they play in the economy of the empire re-
mains essentially the same as in older times.
The Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, for the office of Lord High Trea-
surer has for many years been put in commission, have their office at White-
hall,^ in the building whose history we have attempted to trace, where business
is transacted daily from ten to four. The Exchequer, or more properly '' the
receipt of exchequer," has its office at 3, Whitehall-yard, where the hours of
business, say our official informants, " are uncertain." The Chancellor of the
Exchequer, who seems formerly to have been looked upon as a depute of the
Lord High Treasurer, has in these later times been not unfrequently the same
person with the First Lord of the Treasury. He is always one of the Treasury
Commissioners, and the peculiarity wherein his office differs from the offices of
the rest is simply this, that upon him devolves the trouble of fighting the
financial battles of the administration of which he is a member in the House of
Commons.
The old forms of transacting business were long retained with a desperate
fidelity in the Exchequer. The obsolete make-shifts of tallies and other antedi-
luvian methods of keeping accounts were continued in the Exchequer after the
THE TREASURY. 295
very milk-women had got ashamed of them. The regulations under which
public moneys were received at the Exchequer until a very recent period had
been established by immemorial usage, and more particularly fixed by the Sta-
tute 8 and 9 William III., c. 28. By the first section of that Act the Teller is
bound to receive and make entry of all sums by weight and tale when tendered
at his office ; and, according to the ancient course of the Exchequer, to throw
down immediately a bill of the sura, written upon parchment and signed by the
Teller or his deputy, into the Tally Court, where the person making payment
received his acquittance. It was from the various stages of this primitive process
that the officials of Exchequer derived their strange designations. There was
the Clerk of the Pells (pellis, a skin), who engrossed the bill upon parchment.
There was the Clerk of the Pipe, who tossed it down through a pipe or funnel to
''the court below." In the words of the Commissioners of Finance in 1831,
*' The present system of the Exchequer had its origin in, and has retained man}^
of the characteristics of, a period when the existing facilities and securities for
the transfer of money were wholly, or almost wholly, unknown ; when banks,
bank-credits, bank-cheques, and bank-notes had no existence, and when the
whole system of pecuniary intercourse was rude and imperfect. Multiplied checks
were needful at a time when all payments were made in coin by weight and tale ;
but these very checks become embarrassing as well as useless when the opera-
tions have changed their character. In its earlier history the Exchequer some-
times received coin by weight, and at other times by counting (tale) ; and it had
its departments both for melting and assaying when the coin delivered was be-
lieved to be below the legal standard. The Roman numerals, uncouth, obscure,
and inconvenient as they are, and inapplicable to the commonest purposes of
arithmetical calculation, were the usual formulas of abbreviation in the Norman
period, and were consequently employed at the Exchequer, though the Exche-
quer is probably the only establishment in the civilised world that still retains
them in preference to the simple and intelligible Arabic numerals, into which, in
fact, every document is now translated in the Exchequer-books." This absurdity
had been pointed out fifty years before, but no attempt had been made to amend
it. In 1782 the Commissioners of Accounts had expressed themselves as to the
forms then in use, and which continued in use up to 1831, thus : '' An account in
the Exchequer-form is in English, but contains some Latin terms. The imprest-
roll is all written in an abridgment of the Latin language. The sum,s in both
are expressed in characters that are, in general, corruptions of the old text, and
are in use nowhere that we can find but in the Exchequer ; characters very liable
to mistakes, inconvenient and troublesome even to the officers themselves. The
sums so expressed cannot be cast up. Most of the accounts in the Exchequer are
made up twice; first in common figures, that they may be added together, and
then turned into Latin, and the sums entered in the Exchequer-figures ; and that
the high numbers in a detailed account may be understood they are written in
common figures under the characters. They are defective, having no characters
to express high numbers, as millions; they are unintelligible to the persons either
receiving or having other money-transactions at the Exchequer."
This was the form of transacting business at the Exchequer — the mere form ;
for while the officers of the Exchequer were laboriously performing these old
tricks, the real business of finance was transacted by clerks of the Bank of
296 LONDON.
England. For about a century the Bank sent down to the Exchequer persons
duly authorised to examine and receive its own notes. By order of the Statute
46 Geo. III. the Bank clerks so attending at the Exchequer were bound to re-
ceive cancelled bank-notes from the Receivers General of Customs, Excise,
Stamps, and the Post Office (all which departments kept their money at the
Bank of England), and to give each Receiver General credit for them with the
Teller as for so much cash. The custom too prevailed of receiving through the
medium of the Bank clerks not only these branches of the Revenue, but all
moneys paid to the Teller on the public accounts ; the general use of paper-
money having made it necessary to adopt that course in order to verify the notes
presented at the Exchequer, and enable the Teller, consistently with his own
responsibility, to accept them in payment of the revenue. In short, all payments
nominally made into the Exchequer were received by the Bank, and all moneys
nominally issued from the Exchequer were also paid by the Bank, and it was only
by a " species of fiction," as Mr. Ellis expressed it, that money appeared to be
received and paid by the Exchequer.
This grave fooling did not merely keep a set of intelligent men, who might
have been usefully employed, doing nought earthly but translating the record of
the business transacted in their names by the Bank clerks out of the intelligible
language of English book-kee^nng into a mixture of dog Latin and hieroglyphics
which themselves understood only in part, and which nobody else understood at
all ; it did not only cost the nation for the sustenance of these persons thus em-
ployed upon what was neither useful, ornamental, nor instructive ; it was a source
of serious annoyance to all persons who had moneys to receive at the Exchequer,
and who were unacquainted with its usages. They experienced great difficulty
in obtaining the necessary instruments from the Treasury ; and on application at
the Exchequer, a delay of three or four days was frequently experienced in pass-
ing the instruments through the offices. Nor was even this the worst. The
deleterious influence of the system extended itself to the finance ministers. Men
of genius and powerful character the country undoubtedly has had in this de-
partment; but to a great extent their abilities were paralyzed by the engine
with which they had to work. They devised ingenious schemes for raising a large
revenue in the manner likely to be least felt by the tax-payers, and expending it
judiciously ; but the incomprehensible formulas of the Exchequer concealed from
them the working of their own plans. It was impossible to obtain clear state-
ments of accounts — nobody knew how much money was expended, or where it
went to. All was groping in the dark. Talent, integrity, perseverance, were
thrown away in the attempt to work out good by the hocus-pocus of the Ex-
chequer.
At last the time came when it could be endured no longer. From the recesses
of the Exchequer the wayward goblin — the '' lubber fiend " (or, as Scotsmen
would call him, '' the Brownie"), which for more than a century had taken the
work out of the hands of England's finance-ministers, and transacted it after a fan-
tastic and grotesque fashion of his own, '' was with sighing sent." But as is usually
the case with exorcised spirits, he tore the patient he possessed strangely as he
went out of him. He evacuated his fortress, doing at the same time all the mischief
he could. When Dousterswivel's familiar was exorcised from the mine at Glen-
withershins, the bonfire the boys made of the machinery, wheel-barrows, &c..
THE TREASURY. 297
spread over the whole " country-side" the alarm of invasion. And when " the
tallies" were ordered to be discontinued in keeping the accounts of the empire,
and consigned to the domestics of the Houses of Parliament to heat the stoves
with, they set both Lords and Commons in a blaze. The burning of the Houses
of Parliament was the last mischievous freak of the goblin which had so long
haunted the Exchequer ; — he soared on their flames to his native empyrean^
laughing at the human fools he had teased and thwarted to the last.
The old formalities of the Exchequer have been abolished — a good riddance.
But it is easier to get rid of a bad system than to invent a better ; and, consider-
ing the pertinacity with which the abuses of the Exchequer have clung to us, that
is, though true, a tolerably strong expression. Comptrollers were substituted for
the long array of clerks of the pells, the pipe, and the tallies; money was received
and paid into and out of the national treasury with something of the same intel-
ligible simplicity which characterised these transactions among private indivi-
duals ; it became possible for ministers to see how every farthing of the national
money went, if they had a mind and would take the trouble to do so. But
that all possibility of speculation had not been done away with has been pretty
plainly demonstrated by the gigantic swindling of Solari, Rapallo, and Smith.
The truth is, that a bad old system has been abolished, but that no system has
been substituted in its stead. The Exchequer is like the man out of whom seven
devils had been cast : it is " empty, swept, and garnished.'' If care be not taken
to occupy it, the old tenant may return, bringing with him, in all likelihood,
some of his demoniac kindred worse than himself.
A treasury, we have said, is the key-stone of the arch of government. Let us
vary the metaphor. The Treasury of Great Britain is the keep of the fortress in
which the Administration strengthens itself — for a minister s tenure of office in
this country is but a series of parliamentary sieges and defences. The "keep" of
the fort of ofiice at Whitehall is most skilfully placed. It stands in the centre of
the fortifications. The War-office, the main-guard, is immediately in front ; and
the Admiralty, like a horn-work thrown out before, keeps watch and ward with
its semaphore. Downing street, the quarters of the Premier and Secretary of
State, are in the rear, judiciously covered by the keep. And so long as the Pre-
mier's banner is seen waving over this central strong-hold so long are his troops
assured of yjay and " provant," bold, merry, and faithful.
The personal associations of the Treasury are scarcely so interesting as those
of the Horse Guards and Admiralty, topics which have already been discussed in
'London.' In the case of the latter we forget the mere business- organisation of
desks, stools, clerks, ledgers, and minute-books ; the fancy is carried away to the
heroes sent forth by that machinery, and of their exploits in all quarters of the
earth. The Horse Guards and Admiralty are poetical ; the Treasury is prose
itself. Even the First Lord thereof — or, as he would once have been called, the
Lord High Treasurer — if he is viewed in his capacity of financier (and not of
Premier, which in general he is), appears little better than a sort of land- steward
— certainly upon a most Brobdignagian scale, but retaining all the common-
place of the character, magnified, if possible, by the colossal dimensions of the
business he manages. And as for the clerks — but the clerks in Government-offices
are a race to whom we have as yet scarcely paid sufficient attention.
They are of two kinds — the upper and the under; the former rather disdaining
298 LONDON.
the humble designation of clerks and aspiring to be secretaries. In one respect, i
both classes agree : they are clerks for life. Their rise in the world, like that of
a caged squirrel turning a mill, must be limited to the building in which their
work is done. They may be advanced from the bottom to the top of their "de-
partment," but out of it there is for them no egress. Their mind shrinks and
accommodates itself to its shell ; they become not men of the world, but men of the
office. Their jokes are interchanged, their cares are communicated to, their holi-
days are shared with, the inmates of their own or the neighbouring offices. They
have cant phrases and conventional allusions no one else can understand. They,
the officials, are a people apart ; when they go into a mixed company it is like
going among foreigners.
It is a mistake to imagine that familiarity with great objects expands the mind;
on the contrary, familiarity reduces the objects contemplated to the scale of the
mind itself. Switzerland has produced no poet, and Ossian is apocryphal. All
our poets have been town-bred, or, at least, brought up amid scenery Avhich the
hunters of avalanches, and mountains rising above the snow-line, and cataracts,
call tame and common-place. Alpine scenery impresses only impressible minds —
cultivated minds : if a Swiss or Scotch Highlander by accident get civilised, the
rocks, glens, and corries which drew poetry out of a Byron have been spoiled to
him by being familiar from boyhood. He is like one to whom Shakspere has been
spoiled by having been made to spout him at an elocution-class for a tin medal.
Talk not of Swiss maladie-du-pays and ran z-des-vaches : to like is not to be able to
appreciate. There is no improbability in Byron's assertion that his dog was the
warmest friend he ever had; yet Byron knew many who were better than a w^hole
litter of puppies. So with our clerks in Government-offices. The strokes of
diplomacy, the evolution of national power which strike intelligent by-standers
with admiration or awe, are to them mere tricks of the trade, inspiring in them no
more lively emotions than a cleverly-drawn bargain by his master does in a whole-
sale shoemaker's apprentice. And yet our clerks are proud of knowing, or
being thought to know, all the technical details of political business, and on the
strength of that knowledge take upon them to instruct everybody in everything.
It is a pleasure to watch the odd contortions of countenance with which they
listen to any one pronouncing an opinion on some incident in the wars of
Scinde or China, who does not even know the kind of paper on which a
despatch is written, or how the leaves of office-copies are fastened at the
upper right-hand corner with green ribbon. Your Government-clerk generally
occupies a neat cottage in one of the suburbs, within comfortable walking-dis-
tance of his office, for the sake of digestion, and, in case it should rain, on
a good line for 'busses. A number of Government -clerks will generally be
found to have settled down upon neighbouring houses, as rooks do upon neigh-
bouring trees ; partly, it may be, because what are local recommendations to one
are so to the whole of them, but still more because, like the rooks, they enjoy a
neighbourly *' caw, caw." About the same hour of the morning they may be
seen issuing from their respective doors, after leisurely and comfortably shaving,
breakfasting, and brushing, and uniting slowly into one stream, like drops of
water on the glass of the window, they move leisurely townward together. Staid
decorous men — as all who can keep a place of routine duties for years must be,
with the quiet consciences which doing nothing wrong if people do nothing very
THE TREASURY. 299
particularly good inspires — and with the comfortable state of body produced by
regular easy work, sufficient to keep men from fretting about other matters and
not enough to make them fret about itself — are easily amused. Their topics of
conversation may be counted on your fingers : in Spring and Autumn they discuss
the change from a winter dress to a summer one, or vice versa. In summer they
talk of yester-evening's walk, and in winter of yester-evening's drive homewards,
and the incidents of bad sixpences, new 'busses on the road. Sec. These varied
by remarks on asparagus, oysters, and other '' fruits in their season,'' form the
staple of their discourse which has whiled away their time on the road into town
for years. As they drop into their respective dens even this slender vivacity
subsides : they become mere copying, fetching, and carrying (of intelligence,
however, as well as papers) machines. It is a beautiful arrangement in the me-
chanism of the human mind which enables man to put forth just so much of his
thinking powers as the necessity of his sphere may call for. Your true clerk or
secretary, if touched by a question, begins to think as the larum of a clock begins
to whir when touched ; but left unquestioned, he proceeds with his mechanical
duties thoughtless. These congenial souls return homeward in a more straggling
line of march ; the married men (official characters either marry very early in
life or not at all) betake themselves direct to their families as in duty bound; the
bachelors are sadly addicted to dining out. They are well-drilled, however, always
come to time in the morning, and, as they advance in life, learn the necessity of
husbanding their strength. If you take up your station on their homeward road
between ten and eleven p.m., you are certain to see them walking homeward with
very red faces and steps so steady as to betray an effort. The house of a Govern-
ment clerk is rather a favorite place of visit for ladies of a certain age, especially
if he be a bachelor and addicted to a fine garden.
These are your head clerks, and also, be it noted, your clerks of the old school.
A new generation is rising up with more assumption and less character; and
whatever philosophers say, every man endowed with the artistical sense requires
character, that is, individuality, in the men whom he is to respect. The youngsters
positively affect literary tastes; nay, some of them have perpetrated tragedies
and treatises on statesmanship (by which term they understand dissertations on
red tape, folding of letters, and other official incidents), statistics, &c. Their
sphere of greatness is in literary and scientific societies, where they contrive to
make themselves of importance by always having some driblet of exclusive
information to communicate. They are remarkable of an evening for the whiteness
of their kid gloves, and the martinet precision with which they retain their hats
in their hands.
The subordinate government clerk is a hybrid between the government mes-
senger and the clerk properly so called. He is, perhaps, the happiest of the
whole family. The time was when his leg of mutton baked, with the potatoes
done in the dripping-pan, was duly brought to him on a Sunday from the baker's
about one o'clock, and he never sits down to dinner on that day at five with a
decanter of sherry before him, but he thanks Providence with all the fervour of
a Pepys for his advancement. After such a one has occupied a stool in the
office for several years, he is generally sent, as a first step in his advancement, to
carry a confidential message to some charge-d'affaires, or to execute some small
commission in one of the colonies. An Eno:lishman fresh from London is such
1
300 LONDON.
a rarity there that his society is courted by the attaches and young officers, and i
the chef, after having remarked, jt?roybrm a, in an assertion meant to pass muster I
as an interrogation not to be answered, lest the answer be dilFerent from what is I
wanted — '• Mr. is a respectable sort of person" — asks him once to dinner. |
The poor clerk is bewildered with his greatness : at pic-mcs, and similar occa- 1
sions, he is the butt of the young scape-graces who have got hold of him, but he I
knows it not, though their jokes are pretty broadly practical — he is in good com- 1
pany. Abroad he was in request because he was from home ; at home he is an i
oracle, because he has been abroad. Projectors of a continental tour take Mr. i
's opinion as to the best mode of travelling, and the most interesting routes,
because he has been abroad, and is an official character. In his office he is pro- '
moted to a small room, back, down three pair of stairs from the ground-floor,
which he has all to himself. His salary is augmented, sufficiently to enable him,
with the aid of frequent invitations to dine out from citizens about to make the
grand tour, to indulge himself of a Sunday in the manner above alluded to. And
he remains for life an oracle on the rise and fall of stocks, and the changes of
empire — a " practical man," mind ye, who knows things before they get into the
newspapers — the source of information for writers of leaders in the daily prints,
and for the representatives of the new constituencies of the year '32, as superior
clerks are the accredited crammers of ministers, and the aristocratic members of
the legislature when condemned to make a speech in parliament.
The subordinate clerk is, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, a Cockney ;
and the Cockney character is indelible. The upper clerks consist of a pretty
equable apportionment of the natives of the three kingdoms. All become subdued
to the element in which they live — " nothing in them but doth suffer a sea-
change.'' But they take the official impress or mould with different degrees of
facility or completeness. The Irishman retains most of his individuality ; his wild
spirits, and carelessness of what people think, are incapable of adopting any other
habits than those which nature prompts. The Englishman becomes sufficiently
officialised to be known at once for what he is. But it is the Scotsman, pliant,
yet tough, " wax to receive and marble to retain," who becomes office all over.
The gregarious nature of Scotsmen is amazing. At intervals flocks of them wing
their way southward, and settle down like locusts upon every green herb. The
oldest irruption in the memory of living man was that which brought, among
others, the illustrious historian of British India. The next was that which brought
Wilkie, and the ex-chancellor. Baron of St. Andrews. All do not find accom-
modation in public offices ; but it is astonishing how many find their way in at
these periodical migrations ; and more than any others they become mere office
furniture. They think minute-books, look ledgers, and walk like stools trundled
from place to place. They are endowed with all that condescending propensity
to lecture which characterised Sir Richie Moniplies of the ancient house of Castle
Collops. And pet amid all this ossification or petrifaction of the human soul
there is a drop of kindly feeling left at the core — concentrated like the liquid
drop of brandy in the heart of a frozen bottle — at least for their countrymen.
Enough of these occupants of Government offices — at Whitehall, in Cannon
Row, Somerset House, Pall Mall, the India House, and the Tower. Any one of
the body may be taken as a sample — " he is knight of the shire, and represents
them all." But the present seemed the fittest opportunity that has occurred in
THE TREASURY. 301
our wanderings through London to describe a family of its zoophytes more ex-
clusively peculiar to it than any British family. The Treasury is the centre of
their kingdom — the hole of the queen-bee.
Few of the statesmen who have presided at the Treasury have been remark-
able for anything but their statesmanship and the general high character of
British gentlemen. They afford little to gossip about. Godolphin, as we have
already heard Mr. Hatton avouch, was '' frugal," and esteemed both by his
queen and country. Some of his contemporaries told a different tale — but let
that pass. Walpole was '' a character/' in the conversational acceptation of the
term. Good-natured, and withal somewhat ponderous, without intellectual tastes,
and coarse in his sensuality, yet with a remarkable talent for governing, he held
the reins of power with a more tenacious hand than any statesman who has
succeeded him, except the second Pitt. He held them firmly, but without
apparent effort ; whereas Chatham's was an incessant parade of vigour without
the strength to keep hold. Apart from mere animal pleasures, governing seems
to have been the only employment or pastime for which Walpole had a taste. It
was the thing he came into the world to do^ and he could, or cared to, do nothing
else. When turned out of office by Pulteney he affected to be resigned, but
Gould interest himself in no other pursuit. He yawned and went to sleep in his
chair after dinner, fell into a lethargic state for want of exercise, and slept him-
self into his grave in no time. Lord North resembled Walpole in his good-
nature. Indeed, good-nature is a more common feature of the English statesman
than any other. Harley was good-natured ; Walpole was good-natured -, North
was good-natured j Fox was good-natured. But North had not Walpole's power.
His greatness was the result of accident. He was kept in office by there being
no one else capable of taking it from him. Neither had he Walpole's intense
passion for governing, and he managed to enjoy life in his own quiet and com-
placent way after he was turned out of office. Pitt II. had the governing instinct
quite as strong as Walpole, but he had inherited something of the despotic
temper of his father ; and was anxious that his power should be acknowledged as
Avell as felt. " Good-natured" is scarcely applicable to him, yet he was fond of
a social carouse in his hours of relaxation. It is doubtful w^hether Pitt would
not have been a greater man had his father drilled him less. The power of lan-
guage and the power of action are rarely possessed to the same degree by one
individual. With Pitt the talent for governing was an instinct, but the power
of oratory (and he possessed it too in high perfection) was in a great measure
artificial. It had been drilled into him in youth. There was fluency, and the
sentential forms of logic ; but there was no play of fancy, no imaginative power,
properly speaking, no close reasoning. In modern times the parliamentary
displays of a minister attract an undue share of attention, and Pitt is consequently
judged fully more by his speeches than his actions. This is to do him injustice;
for all his father's care and all his own sedulous efforts could not raise his oratory
to the height to which native genius, aided by cultivation, carried Burke, Fox,
and Windham. Look to his actions, however, and these oratorical rivals seem
dwarfed beside him. The boy grasped the helm of state and held it to the
last. He was one of Carlyle's born kings. The people's instinct taught them
this; and
302 LONDON.
" As waves before
A vessel under sail, so man obeyed
And fell below his stern."
We are not writing a history of England, but describing the buildings of its
metropolis, and calling up their associations, or we might easily recount a long
bead-roll of unobtrusive great men who have here " done their spiriting gently"
or otherwise. For our purpose enough has been said.
After all, England's Treasury contrasts strangely with the schoolboy notions
of a Treasury that cling to us. Here are no ingots of gold and silver, no stores
of jewels, no piled-up substantial wealth. Plainly-dressed men, with about as
much small-change as may suffice for the expenses of the day in their pockets,
go out and in. Scraps of paper are handed about with large sums written or
engraved on them. The abstract idea of money inhabits the empty halls : the
power of endowing men with a magnetic power of attracting gold to them after
they issue from the doors is there — nothing more. It is like the chests full of
sand which the Spanish Jews are said to have received in pawn from the Cid,
and to have guarded with scrupulous care, believing they contained the hero's
plate and jewels. The chests contained something better than gold — the Cid's
" promise to pay ;" and the Treasury contains something better still — the collect-
ive faith of the British nation, which is not a " repudiating" state. The unseen, \
remote wealth at the command of this vacant Treasury exceeds what eastern
imagination, piled up in the cavern, opened to Aladdin. A British monarch's
eye may well gaze on the structure with complacency. And therefore is it
appropriately placed where, white- gleaming through the foliage, it is the first
object that meets her gaze as she looks from her palace-window in the morning.
It is to be hoped that the young scions of royalty are duly impressed with the
importance of the wondrous pile which the early lights show to such advantage
in the fresh and balmy hours of the young day.
The Treasury, as might have been anticipated, occupies a prominent place in
political caricatures and lampoons. A series of broadsides which combine both
characters, with pictures above and doggerel below, levelled at Walpole, and also
at some of his opponents, the year before he was turned out of office, for the most
part lay the scene in its neighbourhood. The first, entitled 'The Protest,' is an
allegory of " the Minority" under the protection of Justice, shooting an arrow at
Walpole, in his easy chair, defended by '' the Majority." The dramatis per-
SGTKC are assembled on the esplanade in St. James's Park, and Walpole's arm-
chair is placed right in front of the Treasury, at that time a building of only eight
years' standing. The female figures representing ''Majority" and ''Minority"
in this engraving, remind one of the Laird of M'Nab's order to a sculptor to
make him figures of Time and Eternity, to be set up on either side of his gate.
" But how am I to represent Eternity, Sir ?" " Make him twice as big as Time."
Another of the series alluded to is entitled ' The Nation.' John, the hero of
North Britain (Duke of Argyle), seated on the box of a coach and six, urging the
horses to mad speed with a huge claymore, driving over all in his way right to the
Treasury gate. The Earl of Chesterfield is postilion. In the headlong haste of
the driver the coach is upset, and poor Carteret is bawling from the inside, "Let
me get out;" while William Pitt I., trundling pamphlets in a wheelbarrow.
THE TREASURY. 303
exclaims, '' Zounds, they are over ;" and Sandes roars out, " I thought what
would come of putting him on the box."
Hogarth about the same time introduced the Treasury candidate as '' Punch,
candidate for Guzzledown," scattering guineas, which he scoops with a ladle out
of a full wheelbarrow among the mob.
Gilray has immortalised an apparently less, but in reality more, dangerous
attack upon the Treasury than that recorded by the anonymous caricaturist of
Walpole and the Duke of Argyle. Dundas and Pitt have just got themselves
snugly ensconced in the Treasury, and closed the grated door. The forces who
have carried the place for them by storm are aj^proaching for their pay. There
is the courtier-like editor of the * World/ there are bludgeon-men, newsmen with
their tin trumpets, errand-boys, and grim grenadiers and highland soldiers in
their kilts, all thronging forward with bills to be discharged. The place, it is
clear, has not yet been made tenable, though it is necessary that a belief in its
being impregnable should prevail; for the new premier, with finger on his lips,
is whispering through a crevice to the gentlemen that it is desired they will have
the goodness to come to "'the back door."
It would occupy too much space to recount all the devices by which metaphor
and allegory have attempted to represent the Treasury and its influence. Now
it is a w^ell from which fatigue-parties of soldiers with suction-hose are pumping
up guineas — now it is a deposit bank from which a premier abstracts money to
enable a queen to make up a private purse (sack, rather) in order that she may
tolerate him in office. There is something so substantial about the Treasury
that squeezing it in to otherwise empty words and pointless pictures they at
once acquire a meaning. It is a very god-send to the unhappy political limners
and scribblers who are scarce of ideas. It is, like FalstafF, the cause of wit in
the witless. Everybody may be conceived to have a feeling of some kind
towards the Treasury : he may be a statesman who wishes to have it well reple-
nished; he may be a tax-payer who thinks too much of his substance is drained
into that reservoir; or he may be a pensioner, or would-be pensioner, anxious to
have it tapped. The mere name of " Treasury" is sure to excite in some way
or other; and the wits and witlings know this so well that they have rung the
changes on it till it has become as monotonous and commonplace as any triple-
bob major. From the wit of Charles II.'s time, who advertised a Treasury to
let, to Tom Brown the younger's hue and cry after the sinking-fund which had
been lost, or stolen, or had " fallen through a chink in the Treasury floor,"
every rhymester and copper-plate scratcher among them has had " a gird at it."
'Tis time the venerable institution or building were left to repose, for whatever
of wit there may originally have been in the allusion, and there never was very
much, has been rubbed off like the thin coat of plating from a bad shilling.
Sarcasm has a short life, love is undying. The affection of the devotees of the
Treasury — of a Treasury — of any Treasur}?-, will long outlive all jokes at it.
** Le vrai Amphytrion est I'Amphytrion ou Ton dine." No, it is the Amphi-
tryon who pays for the dinner. The military chest is the cement of an army, the
Treasury is the cement of a government. Towards it, the ej^es of all connected,
however remotely, with the holders of power, are devoutly and incessantly turned.
The maimed soldier or sailor; the widow and orphans of the warrior or civilian
304
LONDON.
expended out in his country's cause ; the highest officers of state ; the metropoli-
tan policeman ; and many whose claims upon the dividends of this great bank are
much more equivocal^ all think of it, and dream of it with affection. Esto per-
petua is their prayer ; they could kiss the very lime that roughcasts the build-
ing. It is a serious subject for them : the Society for the Suppression of Vice,
they think, ought to have restricted its efforts to putting down all newspaper
squibs and caricatures against the Treasury. That is too sacred a subject for a
joke. They speak of the Queen and constitution, but they think of the Treasury —
" Their dream of life
From morn till night
Is still of Quarter-day."
Dr. Johnson never passed a church without taking off his hat, and Cavaliero
Roger Wildrake, though he rarely crossed the threshold of one, duly observed
the same ceremony. There are people who take off the hats of their hearts when-
ever they pass the Treasury, and, as in the other case, this act of homage is not
confined to those who have the entree. Perhaps those who have little chance of
being admitted within the sanctuary are most fervent in their devotion, as poor
Dick Whittington, before he left his native village and discovered that mud not
gold covered the streets of London, entertained a more intense veneration for it
than the veriest Cockney born within sound of Bow bells. The very mono-
maniacs (who threaten, if they go on to increase as they have done of late^ to out-
number some of the less numerous sects of longer standing — as, for example,
their moral antipodes, the Quakers) feel in their disjointed intellects the amiable
awfulness of the Treasury. How else can we account for McNaughten's takino^
up his position on its steps ?
O [
[Board of Trade, &c., on the site of the old Cock-pit.]
[The Horticultural Gardens rturing^an Exliibition.]
CXX.— THE HORTICULTURAL AND ROYAL BOTANIC
SOCIETIES.
The weather often exhibits strange freaks, giving us, for instance, as till very
lately, winter when summer v/as to be expected according to the almanacks, and
taking unhandsome advantage of the good-nature of those who duly chronicle in
the newspapers the quantity of rain that has fallen within the past week, by
depriving them of their usual vacation ; its habits of preventing youthful holi-
days, and lowering the temperature of fervid political meetings, must also be
acknowledged ; but, after all, like other maligned powers, it is not so bad as it is
described ; it evidently has its sympathies and forethoughts ; — see what a day
it has given us for this the second of the three annual horticultural exhibitions at
Chiswick — a day consummately clear and beautiful and temperate, and with just
so much brilliancy as to make quivering leaves sparkle, transform every little
pond by the roadside into a sheet of silver, bring forth flower-girls and flower-
baskets as a kind of natural spontaneous production, — make omnibus and stage
drivers not merely amiable but poetical. Who is it says the fashionable and the
aristocratic cannot condescend to be punctual, or to be seen doing anything
in haste, or to be ever caught interested ? he or they had certainly never been
at a Chiswick flower-show. Here is this long seat, beneath the awning that covers
the entrance lane leading to the gates, filled with ladies and gentlemen half an
VOL. v. X
306 LONDON.
hour before the time of opening the latter, whilst thicker and faster every moment
arrive the carriages, till at last there is scarcely standing-room out of the broad
sunshine ; then, as soon as the gates open, how rapidly the whole disperse!
through the beautiful grounds, in so many separate streams, each having one of
the numerous marquees scattered about for its centre of attraction ; and lastly,
in following the principal of these streams toward the tent which parties most
familiar with such exhibitions make the primary object of attention, — the one in
which new seedling plants and flowers are exhibited, — it is pleasant to see the
utter hopelessness of our getting any near view within a reasonable time of the
delicate and varied things of beauty that make the central stage one continuous
glow, fading not even by contrast with the sparkling eyes and rosy lips that are!
so busy examining and discoursing upon their respective merits. Many a note-
book may be seen in use, to preserve the name of that new and magnificent
variety of pelargonium, or that pretty pink, or this beautifully formed hearts-
ease. A close examination of the faces around will satisfy us, hov/ever, that the
mere curiosity of the lovers of flowers to learn what new acquisitions they are to
expect to their parterres and green-houses is not the only feeling that makes
this tent so attractive; something like parental pride may be traced in the coun-
tenance of that rosy-featured and white-haired old gentleman, who is expatiating
on the novelty of a calceolaria he has sent to the exhibition ; whilst in the more
serious and business-like persons collected in a little knot here by our side in
earnest debate, it is not difficult to perceive so many professional florists^ one
perhaps chewing the cud of his disappointment at finding the plant he had
nursed with such care, and on which he had expended so much valuable time
has been passed unnoticed instead of receiving the solid approbation of a prize
whilst another may be weighing the pecuniary advantage — by no means insig.
nificant — we have heard of new plants making fortunes for their possessor^
within the last few years — that will result from the confirmed success of hV
favourite. Passing on to a second tent, this elegant-looking circular one befon,
us, we are met half way by a combination of the most delicious perfumes, giving
us full information as to the nature of the display within, namely, fruit. Anc
here we would complain of a want of consideration on the part of the director:
that should be amended. Look at those fruits rising stage upon stage, each in ai
almost interminable circle; at their variety, peaches, nectarines, grapes, melons
strawberries, currants; at their ripe colour, their melting juicy appearance, thei
size, and then their smelly and say if it is reasonable that we should be obligee
to go round and round to admire and enjoy their perfection under the vigilant eyes o
a policeman, who we have no doubt whatever would prevent us from even taking!
a solitary grape from a bunch, and yet that no provision should be made for frai
and erring nature, not even a solitary pine-apple of the many that crown thi
tempting pyramid— sliced up for the accommodation of unhappy epicures,
third marquee, — but it were useless to attempt to describe in all its details ;
sight so utterly indescribable as the exhibitions in question : where we wande
from one scene of floral splendour to another, looking down long ranges or arti
ficial banks of calceolarias, pelargoriums, fuchsias, roses ; in which flowers — o
every individual hue, finely contrasted with each other, and forming, on the whole
magnificent masses of harmonious colour — alone are visible, preventing almos
THE HORTICULTURAL AND ROYAL BOTANIC SOCIETIES. 307
the sight of a leaf by their luxuriance ; where one instant, our eyes are both
attracted and repelled by the intensely vivid colours of the Cacti, and the next
soothed and charmed by the delicate and soft tints of the Corollas of the Exotic
Heaths ; and where, above all, we are almost as much delighted with the beauty and
perfume of the orchidaceous plants, as we are surprised at their extraordinary cha-
racter and modes of growth ; here you shall find a plant hung up in a basket, from
which the long flower descends through the bottom, there, another growing upon a
stump of an old tree, to which its roots are fastened by wires, and yet a third sending
up its tall stems and elegant bloom from a square frame-work of short logs. In
fine, such is the beauty as well as profusion of the innumerable specimens of all
our finest flowering plants brought hither from the most distant parts of the
kingdom, that at the first glance one can hardly avoid a suspicion of irony in the
statement that such exhibitions are intended to diffuse a taste for gardening ; if
we were to hear of innumerable ladies and gentlemen, when they got home,
rooting up annual, biennial, and perennial, in a kind of vexatious consciousness
of the ridiculous figure their flowers cut in the imaginary rivalry they have been
instituting: in their thouohts during the exhibition, it would seem a much more
natural result. Flower growers are, however, not so sensitive, and much more
wise. So they keep their flowers and improve them as much as they can, remem-
bering that there is hardly greater difference between their plants and those of
the exhibition, than would be perceptible between the latter and the plants of
similar exhibitions a few years ago.
Leaving the tents and wandering about the grounds, we presently ascend the
only elevation the gardens furnish — the raised base or terrace on which stands
the Conservatory, like some gigantic glass bubble which a strong wind might
apparently burse, or sweep away altogether, so light does it seem. From thence
we gaze upon a scene unique, perhaps, in England. Whilst the air is ringing
with music, bursting forth now in front, now behind, and now again far
away on one side, band answering band, not less than twelve thousand
persons are pouring in and out of the marquees, or moving in slow and dense
but steadily progressive array through the Conservatory, or filing the long
covered shed where the confectioners' numerous assistants are supplying refresh-
ments without an instant's cessation, or promenading over the lawns, or sitting on
the scattered benches in a hundred picturesque little groups which by their
repose relieve the continuous sense of motion which the whole so forcibly impresses;
and from what classes is this immense and most brilliant-looking crowd composed?
— Evidently, the very highest. The indefinable but clearly marked air of
elegance and dignity without the smallest appearance of assumption of either of
those qualities visible generally, in demeanour, language, and dress, w^ould be
sufficient to tell any intelligent observer the character of the assemblage, if he
had no knowledge whatever of the purpose for which it was assembled — no means
of drawing any inference as to the quality of its members. If, when informed
upon these points, he enquired further, he might find this day, in the gardens, an
amount of social, and political, and intellectual rank, that would surprise him to
find collected anywhere, under any conceivable circumstances; but least of all,
perhaps, at a flower-show, unless he were av.'are how universally tastes of this kind
had been diffused among the higher classes of society, of late years. This is one
x2
308
LONDON.
[Interior of the Conservatory, Horticultural Gardens.]
feature of the exhibition. We must mention another. The beauty of our coun-
trywomen is proverbial all the world over, yet it may be safely asserted that we
Englishmen ourselves hardly know what it is in its perfection till we see it here.
The poets have delighted to ransack the floral world for the tints, the delicacy,
the grace, the sweetness that may best illustrate the personal characteristics of their
favourites, whether of reality or fiction, and many a smile, at their expense, have
matter-of-fact readers enjoyed in consequence ; we suspect, however, that could
even the least imaginative of such persons see the loveliness meeting us at every
turn in these gardens, pressing us onwards in the tents as we delay an extra
second or two of time to contemplate, apparently, this profusely blooming kalmia,
or retarding us — not unwilling to be so retarded — whilst it is itself in reality so
engaged with a tea-scented rose tree, they will confess that even such flowers as
are here would have the worst of it in a competition for beauty.
As the day advances, a written paper affixed against one of the tents draws
many of the more enthusiastic amateurs to see what prizes have been gained,
and by whom. The number and value of the Society's gifts on these occasions
is remarkable evidence both of its liberality and wealth. They comprise to-day
no less than five '' gold Knightian medals," each of the value of 10/. ; nine " gold
Banksian" of the value of 71 \ eighteen '^silver gilt "of the value of 4/.; and
THE HORTICULTURAL AND ROYAL BOTANIC SOCIETIES. 309
seventy-nine others of silver, varying in value from 11. I5s. to 1/. each; besides
fourteen certificates of merit, valued at lOs. each. In some class or other any
person may compete at these exhibitions, and the classes are, on the whole, admi-
rably adapted to give all exhibitors a fair chance of success : thus, for instance,
in some cases private growers are distinguished from nurserymen ; in others, the
possessors of large collections from those who have but small ones, the object in
both cases, of course, being to stimulate the production of excellence in every
quarter, in accordance we might almost say with every one's means. It is impos-
sible, indeed, to over-estimate the value of the services rendered to horticulture,
and every thing directly connected with it, by this Society, since its establishment
in 1820. The objects its founders had in view were two-fold; to prepare and
maintain a place suitable for all kinds of experiments in horticultural science, and
for the purpose of collecting together the most valuable and ornamental plants
that can be found on the surface of the globe, preparatory to their subsequent
distribution throughout England. The beautiful gardens, comprising no less
than thirty-three acres, were in consequence formed. In these we now find an
arboretum, containing the richest collection of ornamental trees and shrubs that
probably exists in Europe, and which render the gardens during the finer months
of the year, one of the most delightful places of resort for a few hours' enjoyment.
Secondly^ there is an orchard, which is acknowledged to be the most perfect ever
formed ; also forcing-houses for grapes, hot-houses for rare exotic plants, and an
extensive kitchen-garden for the trial of new vegetables, or of new modes of cul-
tivating the old ones, and for the instruction of young gardeners ; who, we may
observe by the way, are not admitted into the gardens till they have passed
through an examination, attesting something like knowledge of the theory as well
as of the practice of their calling, and to whom the gardens are in effect a normal
school. We may form some notion of the extent and value of the orchard, from
the lately published catalogue of the different varieties of trees in it, which forms
an octavo volume : a curious contrast to the original poverty of our country, when,
according to Mr. Loudon, the whole collection of native plants might be comprised
in a list of two or three lines, as thus ; "small purple plums, sloes^ wild currants,
brambles, raspberries, wood strawberries, cranberries, blackberries, red berries,
heather berries, elder berries, sour berries, haws, holly berries, hips, hazel nuts,
acorns, and beech nuts," a collection evidently no more to be admired for its in-
dividual excellence or variety than for its extent ; yet such, it appears, were all
that were generally known even as late as the thirteenth or fourteenth century ;
for, though the Romans introduced most of the fruits and vegetables now culti-
vated among us, with many plants that are not so cultivated; '' curious proofs of
which," observes the same writer, '' are occasionally found in the springing up
of Italian plants in the neighbourhood of Roman villas, where ground which had
long remained in a state of rest, had been turned over in search of antiquities ;''
yet, after the departure of that people, the plants in question seem to have
speedily disappeared from general cultivation, and were perhaps only preserved
to us by the exertions of the inhabitants of our early religious houses. But to
return : — for the carrying out of the objects indicated a fund is of course the first
essential ; this is obtained by the payment on the part of each Fellow of the
Society of an admission fee of six guineas, and of four pounds yearly; in return
310 LONDON.
for which he receives, free of any further charge, the published Proceedings and
Transactions of the Society ; a portion of the rare seeds and plants distributed ;
admission to all meetings, and to the library ; with, lastly, the privilege of sending
non-members to the meetings in Regent Street (which are so many minor and
more frequent exhibitions, where also plants are shown and prizes conferred), and
of obtaining twenty-four tickets of admission, to be used at either of the three
principal exhibitions, on the payment of 3s. 6d, each ; beyond that number 5.y.
each must be paid. How the funds thus obtained are expended we have partly
seen, but a brief notice of the chief items of the past year's expenditure, apart from
the ordinary expenses of the gardens, will show the matter still more usefully.
Besides the publication of the Catalogue, the Society laid out 721/. in importing
foreign plants and seeds ; 340/. upon the improvement of the hot-houses at the
gardens, and 833/. in medals and other rewards to gardeners. The first of these
items involves some interesting matter connected with the Society's operations,
which may be illustrated by an extract from the ' Gardener's Chronicle,' where
we learn that Mr. Hartweg (a gentleman specially engaged by the Horticultural
Society, as their collector) was in March last at Bogota, the metropolis of the
republic of New Granada, on the point of starting for the town of Guaduas, a
place 5000 feet above the sea, in a thickly-wooded country, and thence he was
to proceed to Carthagena, on his return to England. His collections from Popayan
and elsewhere filled fourteen chests, in which were twenty-five species of orchi-
dacea?, several fine plants of Thiebaudia floribunda, four boxes of roots and
cuttings in earth, 121 kinds of seed, and about 4000 dried specimens. At the
present time an additional evidence of the vigour of the Society's operations is
afforded by the recent departure from the gardens of Mr. Fortune to China, on
a special mission to collect whatever wealth of flowers, or fruits, or trees, may be
opened to us, by the political changes in a country where we have before obtained
so many important horticultural productions. The value of all this it is impos-
sible to estimate with any accuracy in detail ; it is only by looking at the state of
gardening before the establishment of the Society and now that we can rightly
estimate its labours.
In the middle ages a garden seems to have been either an orchard, or a place
laid out into walks by high and thickly-grown hedges, or a grove, to any or
all of which an arbour seems to have been very commonly established as the
favourite spot. James I. of Scotland, in describing his first sight of Jane Beau-
fort, afterwards his queen, whilst a prisoner in the Castle of Windsor, describes
such a garden in the following passage ; —
" Now was there raaide fast by the touris wall
A garden faire, and in the corneris set
Ane herbere grene, with wandis long and small
Railit about, and so Avith treeis set
Was all the place, and hawthorn hedges knet,
That lyfe* was none, walkyng there forbye
That myght within scarce any wight espye.
" So thick the bewist and the leves grene
■,, Beschudit % all the alleyes that there were,
* Livjnj person. f Boughs. + Beshadowed.
THE HORTICULTURAL AND ROYAL BOTANIC SOCIETIES. 311
And rnyddis every herbere might be sene
The scharp grene swete jcnepere,
Growing so fair with branches here and there,
That as it serayt to a lyfe without,
The be wis spred the herbere all about."
Chaucer, in his poem of ' the Flower and the Leaf/ had previously described
a very similar arbour, in which, it is worthy of notice, he exhibits a perfect
appreciation of the qualities that to this day make our English lawns the admi-
ration of strangers ; the grass of the arbour, he says, was—
"So small, so thick, so short, so fresh of hue."
It was, in all probability, gardens of the nature here indicated that Fitz-Stephen
refers to, in his description of London during the reign of Henry II., where he
says, -- near to the houses of the suburbs, the citizens have gardens and orchards
planted with trees, large, beautiful, and one joining to another ;" it is, at least,
tolerably evident that as James mentions nothing about the chief feature of our
gardens-flowers— when describing some attached to the chief palace durmg
the reign of Henry V., there could have been very little to mention ; and that
little must have been less with the citizens of London between two and three
centuries before. Of gardening, in the sixteenth century, we get a pretty good
idea from various sources ; thus, it appears the opulent Earl of Northumberland,
in 1512 had in his household of one hundred and sixty persons, just one gardener,
who attended -hourly in the garden for setting of herbs, and clipping of knotts,
and sweeping the said garden clean ;" and, of course, if these duties comprised
the whok end and aim of gardening at the period, why, no doubt, one man was
enouo-h. The knotted garden was evidently the favourite style of laying out
grounds with our ancestors. Bacon speaks of -the knotts or figures" bemg
formed of '' divers coloured carthe," and ridicules them as toys for children. .
[A Knotted Garden.]
3l2 LONDON.
' As to vegetable productions for the table at this time, Hume tell us that when]
the queen wanted a salad, she was obliged to despatch a special messenger td
Holland or Flanders, since neither that, nor carrots, turnips, or other edible
roots were introduced till near the close of Henry VIII.'s reign ; whilst Hentzner's
notices of Nonesuch, and Whitehall, show us very clearly the state of the more
ornamental departments. The grounds of the palace built by Henry, and which
having no equal —
" in art or fame
Britons deservedly do Nonesuch name,"
is described as '' accompanied with parks full of deer, delicious gardens, groves I
ornamented with trellis-work, cabinets of verdure, and walks so embowered
by trees^ that it seems to be a place pitched upon by Pleasure herself to dwell
in along with Health. In the pleasure and artificial gardens are many columns
and pyramids of marble, two fountains that spout water one round the other
like a pyramid, upon which are perched small birds that stream water out of
their bills. In the grove of Diana is a very agreeable fountain, with Actseon
turned into a stag as he was sprinkled by the goddess and the nymphs, with
inscriptions. There is, besides, another pyramid of marble full of concealed
pipes, which spirt upon all who come within their reach " — a feature that our
forefathers seem to have been very fond of, for Whitehall possessed a similar
piece of practical joking. Even here we find no mention of ornamental shrubs or
flowers, though, in a survey taken of the palace in 1650, it appears there were then
six plants of the now common inhabitant of our smallest gardens, — Cowper's —
" Lilac, various in array, — now white,
Now sanguine, and her beauteous head now set
With purple spikes pyramidal, as if
Studious of ornament, yet unresolved
Which hue she most approved, she chose them all,"
but which were evidently rare enough at the period of the survey from the par-
ticularity of their description — " trees which bear no fruit, butonly a very pleasant
smell." Other features of the gardens of the time were the smooth bowling-
greens, and the mazes which " well formed a man's height, may, perhaps," as the
writer of the 'New Orchard,' 1597, tells us, "make your friend wander in
gathering berries till he cannot recover himself without your help." The theory
of gardening was at the time, and long after, in an equally brilliant state. One
amusing illustration itiay be borrowed from Evelyn's trailslation of a French
work, * Quintinye's Complete Gardener ;' where a superstition^ as prevalent in
England as in the neighbouring country, was thus noticed.—*^' I solemnly de-
clare," he says, '' that, after a diligent observation of the moofi's changes for
thirty years togethdt^ atid an inquiry whether they had any influence on garden-
ing, the affirmative of which has been so long established ataong us, I perceived
that it was no weightier than old wives' tales, and that it had been advanced by
unexperienced gardetiers. I have therefore followed what ajppeared most reason-
able, and rejected What Wds otherwise : in short, graft itl what titne of the moon
you please, if your graft be good, and grafted in a pfdpei* Stddk, provided you do
it like an artist, you will be sure to succeed. In the same manner, sow what sorts
THE HORTICULTURAL AND ROYAL BOTANIC SOCIETIES.
3i;
'4.
[Bowling Green.]
of grain you please, and plant as you please, in any quarter of the moon, I '11
answer for your success, the first and last day of the moon being equally favour-
able.'* The history of the public gardens in and near London, since the sixteenth
century, illustrates, with tolerable completeness, the history of the changes of
taste in gardening, and the general tenor of its progress. During the reign of
Charles II., Greenwich and St. James's Park were laid out under the direction
of the eminent French landscape designer, Le Notre, who had been invited to
this country by Charles, with the express view of introducing the splendid
French style, and many of his subjects were not slow to profit, each according to
his means, by the example. Evelyn tells us of ''one Loader, an anchor-smith in
Greenwich, who grew so rich as to build a house in the street, with gardens,
orangeries, canals, and other magnificence." Kensington Gardens were com-
menced by William IIL, who stamped upon them the impress of his own, and we
believe, it may be added, the national tastes of the time ; when in our gardens all
sorts of '' vegetable sculpture," — the
" wonders of the sportive shears
Fair Nature mis-adorning, there were found ;
Globes, spiral columns, pyramids, and piers
With spouting urns and budding statues crown'd,
And horizontal dials on the ground,
In living box, by cunning artists traced ;
And galleys trim, on no long voyage bound,
But by their roots there ever anchor'd fast."*
* G. West.
314 LONDON.
From notes made on the gardens round the metropolis^ by J. Gibson, in 1G91, it
appears the sovereign's examyjle was still followed with dutiful exactness ; the
characteristics of them all were terrace walks, hedges of evergreens, shorn shrubs
in boxes, and orange and myrtle trees. Kensington Gardens as yet comprised but
twenty-six acres, to which Queen Anne added thirty more, and caused them to be
laid out by Wise, who turned the gravel-pits into a shrubber}^ with winding
walks, and was compared by Addison to an epic poet for so doing. It was about
this time that there arose in different quarters a more natural taste in gardening,
and Avhich, as the commencement of our present system, has excited considerable
interest and a great deal of not very conclusive discussion. One of the sources
to which this taste is attributed by foreigners is odd enough — the Chinese; but
our own poets seem much better entitled to whatever amount of credit may be
justly assignable to any particular quarter. From Bacon downwards, we find them
exercising a steady and growing influence to this end. That greatest of prose-
poets expressly inculcated the adding to our gardens rude or neglected spots as
specimens of wild nature, and he placed gardening on a higher elevation than was
dreamed of by an}^ one else in his time in the passage, " When ages do grow to
civility and elegance, men come to build stately sooner than to garden finely, as
if gardening were the greater perfection." Waller, at his residence at Beacons-
field, is said to have presented more than usual evidences of natural taste.
Addison is the author of the paper ' On the Causes of the Pleasures of the
Imagination, arising from the works of Nature, and their Superiority over those
of Art,' which appeared in 1712, and Pope, of that in which the verdant sculpture
school is unmercifully attacked in the ' Guardian,' and who, in his epistle to
Lord Burlington, laid down the opposite principles that were to be cultivated, —
the study of nature, the genius of the place, and never to lose sight of good sense ;
then Thomson, by his * Seasons,' did admirable service to the cause : and lastly,
Mason published his poem on the English Garden.
The first artist who appreciated and accepted the new faith was Bridgman,
who banished verdant sculpture from the royal gardens, introduced * ha-has '
instead of walls for boundaries, and portions of landscape scenery, in accordance
with Bacon's ideas, but the clipped alleys were still left to be clipped. Kensington
Gardens, under his superintendence, were now further enlarged, by the addition of
no less than three hundred acres taken out of Hyde Park, and the Serpentine
was formed from a series of detached ponds. This was considered a very bold
experiment. An amusing evidence of the state of the general ideas on the sub-
ject of garden or landscape scenery is given by Mr. Loudon. — " Lord Bathurst
informed Daines Barrington that he was the first who deviated from the straight
line in made pieces of water, by following the natural lines of a valley, in widening
the brook at Ryskins, near Colnbrook, and that Lord Strafford, thinking that it
was done from poverty or economy, asked him to own fairly how little more it
would hav« cost him to have made it straight." But there is an older claimant
to the honour of the serpentine form — Sir Christopher Wren's father, who pro-
posed to '' reduce the current of a mile's length into the compass of an orchard,'
and to employ the enclosed space to purposes of " gardenings, plantings, or ban-
quettings, or aery delights, and the multiplying of infinite fish in a little compass
of ground, without any sense of their being restrained." Bridgman was succecdec
THE HORTICULTURAL AND ROYAL BOTANIC SOCIETIES. 315
by Kent, who, whilst his sculpture and his paintings have sunk into merited obli-
vion, seems to be recognized as the first true English landscape artist, a circum-
stance attributed, in a great measure, and no doubt correctly, to his studies as a
painter. Walpole's opinion of him is high indeed : Kent was, he says, '* painter
enough to taste the charms of landscape : bold and opiniative enough to dare and
to dictate, and born with a genius to strike out a great system from the twilight
of imperfect essays, he realised the compositions of the greatest masters in paint-
ings." Claremont and Esher were both laid out by Kent. We need not further
follow the progress of that natural taste in gardening which is now happily
established, through its various alternations of advance and retreat, but turn
our attention to those gardens in which flowers and ornamental and useful plants
have been made a primary object, and thus prepared the way for the societies
named at the head of our article.
The oldest Botanic gardens in England are those of Oxford and Chelsea, the
last belonging to the Apothecaries' Company as early as 1674, and remaining in
its possession to this day; being maintained by the Company for the use of the
medical schools of London. Evelyn, who visited it in 1685, mentions as rarities
he saw there a tulip-tree and a tea-shrub. Here one of the earliest attempts to
supply plants that required it with artificial heat appears to have been made, the
green-house having been heated in 1684, according to Ra}^ by means of embers
placed in a hole in the floor. To the immense advances that have been sub-
sequently accomplished in this department of horticulture, much of the present
prosperity of gardening in England may be attributed. Among the more strik-
ing results of artificial warmth, may be noticed the present as compared with the
former supply of our metropolitan markets with exotic fruits; which, as Mr.
Loudon observes, enables a citizen of London to purchase throughout the year,
at a slight expense, the same luxuries as the king, or as the most wealthy pro-
prietors can obtain from their extensive gardens ; and which for quality are unri-
valled perhaps in any other part of the world. We must add to our brief notice
of the Chelsea gardens that it was here that the '' Prince of Gardeners," as
Linnaeus called him, Philip Miller, the author of the admirable ' Gardeners'
Dictionary,' spent nearly fifty years, having taken the management in 1722, and
only resigned it a little before his death in 1771. During that period the gardens
obtained an almost unrivalled European reputation. The first Arboretum was
that of Kew, established in 1760, through the influence of the Dowager Princess
of Wales, and which, from the monopoly it has enjoyed of royal and governmental
support from the time of its establishment down to a comparatively recent period,
is in particular departments, such as that of the New Holland plants, without a
rival. It has from the same cause been the medium through which an enormous
number of foreign plants have been introduced into this country, we can scarcely
say into our gardens; for so illiberal was the entire system of management, that it
was not until of late years its directors seem to have had the idea cross their minds
that, in return for the national funds, the gardens might contribute in someway to
the national enjoyment. Except in such particular departments as that we have
mentioned, the arboretum of Kew is now greatly inferior not only to the collection
in the gardens of the Horticultural Society, but even to that of a private esta-
316 LONDON*
blishment, Messrs. Loddiges', at Hackney. Besides its arboretum, Kew contains
a large number of rare plants in numerous hot-houses and green-houses, and
has also an excellent kitchen-garden, and a British garden, containing a rich col-
lection of native flowers. It is now readily accessible to the public, and forms,
as may be supposed, a very interesting place to visitors.
During the war, men had weightier matters to engross all their thoughts, time,
and money, than the improvement of their gardens or the development of horti-
cultural tastes through the community ; it is, consequently, from the period of
peace — 1815, that we may date the commencement of the present extraordinary
prosperity of English gardening ; and of which the Horticultural Society, founded,
as we have said, in 1820, must be looked upon as the chief moving impulse. It
was by its means that the new leisure was used for the advancement of an inno-
cent and graceful recreation, and which may easily become more than this — a
valuable and elevating study ; it was by its means that the new opportunities of
inter-communication between our own and other countries were taken advantage
of for the interchange of those natural productions, which seem purposely scat-
tered over the globe that they may form so many links that shall ultimately bind
the whole human race in friendship together ; it was by its means that all the
appliances and discoveries of science were brought to bear in the readiest and
most effective manner upon the commonest but most valuable fruits and vege-
tables of our tables ; lastly, it was by its means that the beautiful and
previously unknown plants scattered about in different parts of the globe were
obtained, not simply for the completion of a botanical collection, or for the
improvement of a nobleman's or gentleman's garden, but also indirectly for the
common enjoyment even of the poorest cottager. If we go into Covent Garden,
and find packets of seed of such beautiful little annuals, for instance, as the blue
and white or white and spotted Nemophilias, or the pretty tri-coloured Gilia, and
we know not how many others, offered for a penny each, to whom but the Fellows
of the Horticultural Society are our thanks due ? Or if, in the same place, we
find, on inquiry, how completely the old varieties of fruits and vegetables have
disappeared, and their places been occupied by new ones of infinitely superior
quality, to whom but them, again, have we any reason to be grateful ? Or lastly,
if we perceive how extensively the example of this Society has been followed in
the formation of the innumerable associations that now not only comprise one
or more for almost every large town, but we might almost say one for every
''florist's flower" (the Heart's Ease Society, for instance), we have satisfactory
evidence that the objects and the exertions of the noblemen and gentlemen re-
ferred to have been fully appreciated.
That the second of the two societies mentioned in our title may render as
great services to botany as the first has done to horticulture must be the highest
ambition of its founders. ' The Royal Botanic Society of London ' was incor-
porated between three and four years ago, for the " promotion of Botany in all its
branches, and its application to Medicine, Arts, and Manufactures, and also for
the formation of extensive Botanical and Ornamental Gardens within the imme-
diate vicinity of the Metropolis." The Society consists of Fellows who pay an
admission fee of five guineas, and an annual contribution of two. Exhibitions of
THE HORTICULTURAL AND ROYAL BOTANIC SOCIETIES. 317
flowers are sanctioned by the Society, and the prizes given are not much less in
amount than those at Chiswick. The grounds in the Regent's Park, which are
bounded by what is known as the Inner Circle, consist of eighteen acres, which
were previously in the possession of a nurseryman, and then formed an almost
level surface, the only noticeable deviation being the slight slope of the ground
westward. In stepping into the grounds, now, the change is truly surprising, and
we do not know where our readers could more readily obtain a practical example
of what may be done in picturesque landscape gardening, on the most unpro-
mising sites. As we enter, on one of the evenings devoted to the promenade, as
it is called, a pretty rustic screen of ivy intercepts, for a moment, the view of the
interior, which passed, we find ourselves on a very broad gravel walk, adorned
at each end with large vases on pedestals. As we pace along this walk we have,
on the right, a picturesque-looking mound rising to some considerable elevation
from the midst of the irregular grounds about its base, and on the left lawns and
shrubberies, behind which the winding walks disappear into the lower grounds
beyond, where occasional glimpses may be obtained of a brilliant parterre of
flowers. '' The mount, at least, is not artificial," we have heard visitors say;
but it so happens that not only that, but another of the chief features of the
gardens — the fine piece of water close by the mount, show, somewhat amusingly,
how these things may be managed. The soil dug out of the bed of the water
would have been an expensive article to remove, so it was thrown up close by,
and lo ! — the materials of the mount ; then there was a difficulty as to filling the
vacant hollow, and it was in serious contemplation to obtain a supply from some
of the Water Companies, when a few heavy falls of rain settled that matter, and
lo ! the Lake. At the end of the walk we ascend a flight of steps, to what is
called the Terrace, where, perhaps, one of the most interesting buildings yet
contrived for the protection of plants requiring, in this country, an artificial cli-
mate, is about to be erected. This is an immense winter garden, entirely covered
with glass, where some three or four thousand persons may be able at once to
move about the varied surface, ascending or descending the different walks, above
all, enjoying the novel effect produced by passing from the hardy plants and
temperate atmosphere of their own country in the gardens without, gradually
through a warmer and warmer air, each portion having its own suitable vegeta-
tion, till, at last, they reach the tropical regions of the extremity, and find them-
selves in the country of palms, and other such magnificent inhabitants of the
East. If this can be accomplished, as is anticipated, without any intervening
screens for the preservation of a particular degree of heat to a particular part, the
effect will be certainly magical. The proposed dimensions of the structure are
300 feet long by 200 broad, and only from 20 feet to 30 feet high. In this com-
parative lowness of roof one mode is presumed to have been found of placing the
temperature under sufficient management ; the other, and chief one, is, of course,
the skilful regulation of the heat introduced at the hottest part, which, it is
expected, will diffuse itself gradually through the whole building, regularly
decreasing in intensity till, at the entrance, all traces of it are lost. In front
the building is to have an ornamental dome, some forty feet high. Turning
now to the right, and passing on one side the chief body of the promenaders
congregated about the stage, on which the band of one of Her Majesty's house-
318 LONDON.
hold regiments are playing, their cocked hats and scarlet coats forming a
brilliant picture from different parts of the gardens, — and on the other, the
elegantly fitted-up refreshment-room, the walk leads us beneath the shade of
a magnificent tree, brushing the ground on all sides with its drooping branches;
and thence onward to certain portions of the grounds laid out in gracefully-
shaped patterns which, though yet but very incompletely furnished, are, rightly
considered, the most important if not the most interesting departments of the
place. That large piece of ground, forming a spiral, is for the reception of plants
used, or useful, in medicine ; and the student who begins at one end of the spiral
will find the different orders are all arranged systematically, according to the im-
proved natural system of De Candolle. Another piece of ground here is devoted
to the collection of the chief agricultural plants. But the most generally attractive
of the whole will be the garden of hardy plants from all parts of the world, lately
formed, and which already contains 3000, and will receive at least 7O0O more.
These are also arranged according to De Candolle's system, and convey still
more directly to the eye, owing to the general form of the parterre, than the
other divisions mentioned, the aflfinities of plants with each other. In this part
of the gardens a large and handsome building is also to be erected for the forma-
tion of a museum, and to contain the library, reading-room, lecture-room, &c.
The facilities offered to students in Botan}^ at this place, will be apparent from
what we have stated. The professor will not need to content himself with illus-
trating his lecture with a few half-withered specimens collected just as circum-
stances permitted, but may walk out, like an old philosopher of Greece, into his
garden or academy, and teach the most delightful of sciences in the pleasantcst
of schools.
Returning to the terrace, noticing by the way the taste with which a variety of
objects are scattered about, as rustic vases at the intersections of walks, rustic
bridges over the water, and the judgment displayed in the more important addi-
tions to the original monotonous surface, such as the sloping mounds thrown up
in different parts, which now give such variety and expression to it, we pass to
the lower grounds on the opposite side of the terrace, where the irregularities
become still more agreeable and decided. Every few yards the scene changes.
Now we descend into a rocky dell, spanned by an arch of rocks, and with a cave,
in character with the whole, at one side ; then a little rude bridge takes us across
a stream winding sluggishly along between its reedy banks ; then, a few yards fur-
ther, and we are in a kind of amphitheatre, devoted to the growth of the beautiful
American plants, or those requiring peat soil, the rhododendrons, kalmias, azaleas,
andromedas, &c. &c. We may here remark that the shrubs gcncrall}^ through-
out the entire gardens, are also systematically arranged, and that they are legibly
named first with the botanical appellation, and then the English. The mention
of the rhododendron reminds us of the changes since Crabbe's time, when the use
of the word formed a subject of the poet's good-humoured satire :
" High-soimding words our worthy gardener gets,
And at his club to wondering swains repeats;
He then of Rhus and Rhododendron speaks,
And Allium calls his onions and his leeks."
Many of our readers we fancy would now be puzzled for the moment to remcm-
THE HORTICULTURAL AND ROYAL BOTANIC SOCIETIES. 319
ber the English name of the plant in question. We have pretty well got over
that not very rational feeling of objecting to call plants by an appropriate name,
and one too that shall be known the world over ; and if, when botanists are naming
new flowers, they would be at once as appropriate and poetical as Linnaeus, when
he named another of the plants we have mentioned, we verily believe they might
make us in love with as many hard words as they pleased. We refer to the
Andromeda, which derives its designation from the daughter of the King of Ethi-
opia, who was tied naked on a rock, and exposed to the ravenous jaws of a sea-
monster, in order to appease the anger of Neptune; but being relieved by
Perseus, became his bride, and had many children. Such is the tradition Lin-
naeus thus beautifully illustrates in the appearance of the flower : ^' Andromeda
polifolia was now (June 12) in its highest beauty, decorating the marshy grounds
in a most agreeable manner. The flowers are quite blood red before they expand,
but when full-grown, the corolla is of a flesh-colour. Scarcely any painter's art
can so happily imitate the beauty of a fine female complexion, still less could
any artificial colour upon the face itself bear a comparison with this lovely
blossom. As I contemplated it, I could not help thinking of Andromeda as de-
scribed by the poets, and the more I meditated upon their descriptions, the more
applicable they seemed to the little plant before me ; so that, if these writers had
it in view, they could scarcely have contrived a more apposite fable. Andromeda
is represented by them as a virgin of most exquisite and unrivalled charms, but
these charms remain in perfection only as long as she retains her virgin purity,
which is also applicable to the plant now preparing to celebrate its nuptials.
This plant is always fixed on some little turfy hillock in the midst of the swamps,
as Andromeda herself was chained to a rock in the sea; which bathed her feet, as
the fresh water does the roots of this plant ; dragons and venomous serpents sur-
rounded her, as toads and other reptiles frequent the abode of her vegetable
resembler, and, when they pair in the spring, throw mud and water over its
leaves and branches. As the distressed virgin cast down her blushing face
through excessive affliction, so does this rosy-coloured flower hang its head,
growing paler and paler till it withers away. Hence, as this plant forms a
new genus, I have chosen for it the name of Andromeda."''' He subsequently
pursued the analogy further : "At length," says he, ''comes Perseus, in the
shape of summer, dries up the surrounding water, and destroys the monsters,
rendering the damsel a fruitful mother, who then carries her head (the capsule)
erect." Many other interesting floral compartments adorn this part of the
grounds, among them a rosary, in which however the plants are as yet too small
to be eflective. Here, too, is the Secretary's oflRce, and residence, in a pic-
turesque little building, with a richly-furnished lawn in front, and a fine shady
grove, with a cast of Diana and the hart, at one side. The only other part of the
gardens that we can here mention is the mount, with its winding walks of ascent,
at the foot of which are numerous masses of interesting geological specimens.
From the summit we obtain by far the finest view of the whole of the gardens,
which from hence have really a charming efiect ; whilst beyond them, if we look in
* Sir J. Smitli's Translation of Linnaeus' Lachesis Lapponicai
320
LONDON.
1
one direction, we have the handsome terraces of the Park, backed by impenetrable ;
masses of houses, and in another, the ever-beautiful ''sister hills" of Hampstead !
and Highgate. In conclusion we may observe, that in the cut before given of
the knotted garden which embodied the notions of our forefathers, and in the >
view of the grounds of the Society, shown below, we have a tolerably satisfactory ;
evidence of the progress of that truer taste in gardening to which we have
previously alluded.
[Gardens of the Royal Botanical Society, Regent's Park,]
\i
[Tlie Model Prison, on the Separate System, "at Peutonville.]
CXXL— PRISONS AND PENITENTIARIES
About 36,000 criminals and other persons (exclusive of debtors) pass through
the Metropolitan gaols, houses of correction, bridewells, and penitentiaries, every
year. In the year 1839 the number of persons taken into custody by the metro-
politan police was equal to the whole population of some of our largest towns,
being 65,965. The disproportion of the sexes was not greater than in the colon}^
of New South Wales, there being 22,467 females and 43,498 males. The num-
bers taken up for drunkenness were 13,952 males and 7317 females, or nearly
one-third of the whole number : the amount taken from drunken persons and
restored to them when sober was 9430/., in 1837. The number of disorderly
characters apprehended in 1839, was 4957 males and 3217 females; together
8174 persons; besides 3154 disorderly prostitutes, 4436 for common assaults^
and 1448 for assaults on the police ; and of vagrants the number was 3780.
There were 6764 common larceny cases; and 3196 persons were apprehended as
' suspicious characters.' In the class of cases already enumerated are included
52,221 persons. Altogether, of the 65,965 persons taken into custody there were
33,882 at once discharged by the magistrates ; 28,488 were summarily convicted
or held to bail, and 3595 were committed for trial, of whom 2813 were con-
victed. Larcenies in a dwelling-house were most numerous in Whitechapel
in 1837, and in St. George*s in the Borough, in 1836. Larcenies from the
person were most common in Covent Garden in the one year and in Shadwell in
the other. Highway robberies, burglaries, house and shop-breaking occurred
VOL. v. Y
322 LONDON.
most frequently in the suburbs— as in Whitechapel, Southwarlc, Lambeth, Mile
End, and Poplar ; but the number of this class of offences, in the whole of the
metropolitan district in 1839, was under 200. The parish of St. James's fur-
nished, in 1837, the largest proportionate number of cases for the police under
the head of drunkenness, disorderly prostitutes, and vagrancy. Clerkenwell was
distinguished for the largest number of cases of horse-stealing, assaults with
attempt to rescue, and wilful damage. Common assaults were most frequent in
Covent Garden in 1837, and in St. George's in the East in 1836; coining and
uttering counterfeit coin in Clerkenwell and Covent Garden; embezzlement in
Whitechapel and Clerkenwell ; and pawning illegally in Mile End and Lambeth.
Murder was most prevalent in Clerkenwell and Whitechapel ; manslaughter in
Islington and Clerkenwell ; and arson in Marylebone and Westminster. One
thing is at least clear, that Clerkenwell holds a bad pre-eminence for the number
and nature of the offences committed within its limits ; but district returns must
be continued for a series of years before the character of any particular division
of the metropolis can be fully brought out. Comparing Middlesex (including
London) with England and Wales, we find that in assaults the county is very
much above the average, a result which probably arises in a great degree
from the presence of a numerous and efficient police force, which, by affording the
means of immediate arrest in cases of this nature, augments the number of cases
brought before the magistrates ; and the same cause will account for the smaller
proportion of murders, as interference frequently takes place before quarrels
proceed to a fatal termination. The assaults on peace-officers are also few in
number, from its being v\'ell known that the aid of additional policemen can be
easily obtained. The valuable proj)erty in shops and warehouses is usually so
well protected in London, both by the presence of a police force and internally by
bolts and bars, that the average of burglaries is also fewer than in the country ; and
the same may be said of housebreaking, which crime, as already stated, chiefly
occurs in the suburbs. Robbery, with violence, is also below the average ; but in
malicious offences against property, the disproportion in Middlesex is very striking,
Avhich is to be accounted for by the difficulty of finding means to gratify private
vengeance in this way, while, in the countr}^ stack-burning, and killing and
maiming cattle are crimes of easy commission. But in crimes which call for
dexterity and intelligence the preponderance in Middlesex is very great, as in
the case of larceny from the person (pocket-picking) and forgery. Lastly, the
disproportion of female criminals in the metropolis is very considerable. In 1842,
out of 5569 female offenders, 989 were committed in Middlesex, or between one-
fifth and one-sixth, instead of about one-ninth. In the Metropolitan police district
the amount of loss by 11,589 robberies in 1838 was 28,619/., and the number for
which a police force could fairly be responsible was 2919, involving a loss of
10,914/., including 446 cases of robbery b}^ '' means unknown." At the com-
mencement of the present century Mr. Colquhoun, himself a police magistrate,
estimated the amount of depredations on property committed in the metropolis
and its vicinity at 2,000,000/. ! Is it to be supposed that, with the present most
efficient police force of about 3500 persons, less than 2 per cent, of the felonies
should now become known ? It is quite clear, indeed, that Mr. Colquhoun's
statement was either very far wide of the mark, or that a most enormous saving
has been effected by an improved system of police.
PRISONS AND PENITENTIARIES.
323
Still there is no manner of doubt, that, from the number of persons living
habitually by depredations on property, the amount of loss must be very great.
The Constabulary Commissioners, who had access to the best sources of informa-
tion, made a return of the number of depredators and offenders ao-ainst the
law, or who had been subjected to the law, or brought within the cognizance of
the police in the metropolitan police district, and the following was the result of
their investigation. They divided the whole number into three classes : — 1. Per-
sons who have no visible means of subsistence, and wdio are believed to live by
violation of the law, as by habitual depredation, by fraud, by prostitution, &c.
2. Persons following some ostensible and legal occupation, but who are known to
have committed an offence, and are believed to augment their gains bv habitual
or occasional violation of the law. 3. Persons not known to have committed any
offences, but known as associates of the above classes, and otherwise deemed to
be suspicious characters. The following is the return :
Character and Description of Offeiidors.
Burglars ....
Housebreakers . .
Highway robbers . . ,
Pickpockets . ...
Common thieves * . •
Forgers ...»
Obtaiiieis of goods by false pretences
Persons committing frauds of any other description
Receivers of stolen goods .
Horse-stealers ...
Cattle-stealers • •
Dog-stealers ....
Coiners . • . •
Utterers of base coin
Habitual disturbers of the public peace
Vagrants ....
Begging-letter writers ,
Bearers of begging-letters
Prostitutes, well-dressed, living in brothels
Prostitutes, well-dressed, walking the streets
Prostitutes, low, infesting low neighbourhoods
Classes not before enumerated • .
Total
1st Class.
2nd Class.
3ld Cl:lS3
77
22
8
59
17
34
19
8
11
511
75
154
1667
1338
3
108
652
33
__
23
118
41
51
158
134
7
4
—
45
48
48
25
1
2
202
54
61
723
1866
179
1089
186
20
12
17
21
22
40
24
813
62
20
1460
79
73
3533
147
184
40
2
438
10111
4353
2104
This return, tested as it was by the average length of career of offenders pass-
ing through the prisons of the metropolis, is no doubt as near the truth as
possible. Besides this return, the Constabulary Commissioners also obtained
another, giving the number of houses open for the accommodation of delinquency
and vice in the same district ; and this return we subjoin :
Houses for the reception of stolen goods
Ditto suppressed since the establishment of the police
Houses for the resort of thieves . .
Ditto suppressed since the establishment of the police
Average number of thieves daily resorting to each
Number of brothels where prostitutes are kept
Average number of prostitutes kept in each .
Number of houses of ill-fame where prostitutes resort
Number of houses where prostitutes lodge •
Number of gambling-houses . . •
Average number of persons resorting to each daily
Mendicants' lodging-houses . •
Average daily number of lodgers at each house
227
131
276
159
17
933
4
848
1551
32
20
221
11
y2
324 LONDON.
Now, in 1796, Mr. Colquhoun gave, in his 'Police of the Metropolis/ an
" Estimate of Persons who are supposed to support themselves in and near the
metropolis by pursuits either criminal, illegal or immoral," and, dividing them
into twenty-four classes, he made out the number to be 1 15,000, of whom 50,000
were prostitutes ! The male population of London, within the Bills of Mortality,
was then only from 150,000 to 120,000, after deducting children and aged persons.
The official station of Mr. Colquhoun, at one time, gave great weight to his state-
ments, and well were they calculated to keep up the country idea of London vice
and roguery.
The proportion of known bad characters in the metropolis was 1 in 89, according
to the table given above, which is a more favourable proportion than exists either
at Liverpool, Bristol, Bath, Hull, or Newcastle. In London, this class fix them-
selves in particular districts. In the parish of St. George the Martyr, South-
wark, the total number of notoriously bad characters, according to the Constabulary
Commissioners' Report, was 692, or 1 in 65, or 1 to every 33 adults. "If," as it
has been observed, '' only three persons form the family or society of each of
these characters, nearly 1 in every 20 of the population is thus rendered vicious,
or is exposed to the contamination of a constant familiarity with profligacy and
vice."* The Mint and the scarcely less notorious Kent Street are in this parish.
The Mint was the scene of '^'^ the life, character, and behaviour" of Jack Shep-
pard ; and within the same precincts, at the Duke's Head, still standing, in Red-
cross Street, his companion Jonathan Wild kept his horses. The Mint and its
vicinity has been an asylum for debtors, coiners, and vagabonds of every kind ever
since the middle of the sixteenth century. It is districts like these which will
always furnish the population of the prisons, in spite of the best attempts to re-
form and improve offenders by a wise, beneficent, and enlightened system of dis-
cipline, until moral efforts of a similar nature be directed to the fountain-head of
corruption. There are districts in London whose vicious population, if changed
to-day for one of a higher and more moral class, would inevitably be deteriorated
by the physical agencies by which they would be surrounded, and the following
generation might rival the inhabitants of Kent Street or the Mint.
In London, it is not vice only which leads to distress, poverty, and absolute
want, the general precursors of crime, but unavoidable misfortunes. The death
of parents, the failure to obtain employment, may be the occasion of distress as
well as vicious indulgence, indolence, or the loss of character. '' It is lamentable,"
says the chaplain to the Reformatory Prison at Parkhurst, '' to observe how large
a majority of the prisoners here consists of destitute or otherwise unfortunate
children, suffering either from the loss, the negligence, or the vice of their re-
latives. For example, out of 131 prisoners, 13 only appear to have been brought
up in any way approaching to decent and orderly habits ; and but 14 are pos-
sessed of such connexions as afford them a prospect of a livelihood in future, so
far as their native country is concerned. Of that number also 51 are either
friendless, or with prospects even more wretched through the crimes of their
relations." The '' period of criminality," in the case of these 131 juvenile cri-
minals, appears to have been as follows : — Pilfered early from parents and friends,
51 ; robbed out of doors for several years, 30; for one or two years, 26; for under
a year, 7 ; little, or none professed, 17. If we had space, we should here trace the
* ' Statistics of the Parish of St. George the Martyr,' by the Rev. George Weight.
PRISONS AND PENITENTIARIES. 325
usual progress of the London thief, until, after having probably been several
times an inmate of the gaol or house of correction, he is sent out of the country.
In 1796 there were 18 prisons in London, some of them of very ancient date.
Newgate (the City gate) was a gaol in the reign of King John. The yjrison-
house pertaining to one of the Sheriffs of London, called the Compter, in the
Poultry, hath been there kept and continued, says Stow, time out of mind,
" for I have not read of the original thereof" About 1804 the old Poultry
Compter became too much out of repair to be used as a prison, but the
night charges were still taken there. The Marshalsea and King's Bench were
both very ancient prisons. In 1381, the rebels of Kent, says Stow, '' brake
down the houses of the Marshalsea and King's Bench in Southwark, took
from thence the prisoners, brake down the house of Sir John Immorth, the
marshal of the Marshalsey and King's Bench, &c." It was to the latter prison
that Henry, Prince of Wales, afterwards Henry V., was confined by Judge Gas-
coigne, for striking him when on the bench. During Lord George Gordon's
riots the King's Bench was thrown open, about 700 prisoners released, and
the prison set on fire. The Marshalsea was so called from having been ori-
ginally placed under the control of the Knight Marshal of the royal household.
Its jurisdiction extended twelve miles round Whitehall, the City of London ex-
cepted. The persons confined there before its discontinuance in 1842 were pirates
and debtors ; and it contained 60 rooms and a chapel. This prison originally stood
near King Street. The King's Bench originally stood near the spot occupied by
the Marshalsea, in the Borough High Street. In Stow's time there was a prison
in Southwark called the White Lion, on St. Margaret's Hill (now called the
High Street), near St. George's Church : it was originally the county gaol for
Surrey, before the one in Horsemonger Lane was built at the suggestion of
Howard. It was called the White Lion, '' for that the same was a common
hosterie for the receipt of travellers by that sign;" that is, it was probably built
on the site of an inn so named. Stow says : '' This house was first used as a gaol
within these forty years last," and it was then the county gaol for Surrey. In
the thirteenth century the postern of Cripplegate was used as a prison, '' where-
unto such citizens and others as were arrested for debt or common trespasses
were committed, as they be now (says Stow) to the Compters." Speaking of
Ludgate, he says : '' This gate was made a ' free' prison in 1378;" and in 1382,
'Mt was ordained that all freemen of this City should for debt, trespasses, accounts
and contempts, be imprisoned in Ludgate ; and for treasons, felonies, and other
criminal offences, committed to Newgate." The munificence of Dame Agnes
Foster to the prisoners of Ludgate has been noticed in a former part of this work.
Bridewell was given by Edward VI. to the City in 1553_, to be a workhouse for
the poor and idle persons of the City. The Tower was the great state prison,
from the middle ages down to the present times.
The number of the metropolitan prisons is now only thirteen. The Fleet
Prison and the Marshalsea were discontinued in 1S42, and the prisoners (debtors)
were transferred to the Queen's Bench, now called the Queen's Prison. It is
situated at the bottom of the Borough Road, Southwark, contains 224 rooms,
and the number of debtors has often exceeded 500. The new Act for its regu-
lation abolishes the day-rules. The old practice was for the ''rulers" to pay ten
326 LONDON.
guineas for the first 100/., and five guineas for eacli succeeding 100/. for which
they were in custody. Liberty to go out of the prison for three days was pur-
chased at the rate of 4^. 2d. for the first day, Si*. iOd. for the second, and 85. 10(7.
for the third. These days were specified on the " liberty tickets." Of course,
good security was given to the Marshal that the '' rulers" should not decamp.
The emoluments of this officer in 1813 were stated to be 3590/. a-year, of which
872/. arose from the sale of beer, and 2823/. from the rules. The regulations of
the prison are in future to be framed by one of the Secretaries of State ; and
the Act provides for the classification of the prisoners. Some notice of the
characteristics of a debtor's prison has already been given, and to it we must
at present refer the reader.* The Borough Compter, removed to Mill Lane,
Tooley Street, is now used exclusively for debtors from the Borough of South-
wark ; the prison in Whitecross Street is also exclusively a debtors' prison for
London and Middlesex. Debtors are also confined in the Surrey County Gaol,
Horsemonger Lane ; and in the Westminster Bridewell, Tothill Fields ; both
likewise prisons for criminals. Debtors were confined in Newgate and Giltspur
Street before the prison in Whitecross Street was built. The late Sir Richard
Phillips, in a letter on the ' Office of Sheriff,' published in 1808, said : — " The very
circumstance of being committed for debt to Newgate has a tendency to degrade
an unfortunate individual, more than confinement from the same cause in any
other prison."
It is very probable that the majority of the prisons will never be seen by the
casual visitor to London ; but this is not the case with Newgate, and its use is at
once apparent, for there is not a more characteristic edifice in London, and it is ad-
mirable both in spirit and design. Old Newgate prison, built after the fire of 1666,
was pulled down and rebuilt between 1778 and 1780 ; but during Lord George
Gordon's riots in the latter year it was broken open, the prisoners were released,
and the rioters set fire to the prison and to the keeper's house, which were
destroyed. At the commencement of the present century nearly eight hundred
prisoners were confined at one time in Newgate, and in consequence of its
crowded -state a contagious fever broke out. Many improvements have been
made since this period. In 1810, in consequence of the strenuous exertions of
Sir Richard Phillips, a committee of the Common Council passed a resolution for
building a new prison for debtors, and in 1815 Newgate ceased to be a debtors'
prison, the debtors being transferred to Giltspur Street Compter. This latter place
ceased to be a debtors' prison in consequence of the erection of Whitecross Street
prison. In 1811 public attention was strongly directed to the subject of peniten-
tiary houses, and some attempts were made at a classification of the prisoners in
Newgate. Still it has often been stigmatised as one of the worst managed of the
large prisons of England. The duties of the chaplain of Newgate thirty years
agOj in return for an income of above 300/. a year, are thus described in a Parlia-
mentary Report of 1814: — "Beyond his attendance in chapel and on those who
are sentenced to death. Dr. Forde feels but few duties to be attached to his office.
He knows nothing of the state of morals in the prison; he never sees any of the
prisoners in private; though fourteen boys and girls from nine to thirteen years
old were in Newgate in April last, he does not consider attention to them a point
* No. LXXVIIl. 'Fleet Prison,' vol. iv.
PRISONS AND PENITENTIARIES. 327
of his duty ; he never knows that any have been sick till he gets a warning to
attend their funeral ; and does not go to the infirmary, for it is not in his in-
structions." The duties of the chaplain are now of course performed with as
much zeal as in any other prison. In Dr. Forde's time the attendance of the
prisoners at chapel was entirely voluntary ! Gambling and drinking, and tales of
villainy and debauchery were the only occupations. The old prisoners instructed
the younger ones in the deftest feats of robbery. The want of classification, and
the entire idleness in which the prisoners spent their time, rendered Newgate a
positive institution for the encouragement of vice and crime. The casual offender,
committed on some slight charge which scarcely affected his moral character, was
thrust into the companionship of beings scarcely human, men transformed into
demons by the vilest passions and a life nurtured from infancy in the lowest depth
of vice and infamy ; the young were placed with the old, the healthy with the
sick, the clean with the filthy, and even the lunatic was there the sport or the
fear of the prison. From the contaminating nature of such association there was
no escape, and the young offender came out of prison fit for any desperate scheme
of villainy. ^' I scruple not to affirm," says Howard, ''that half the robberies
committed in and about London are planned in the prisons by that dreadful
assemblage of criminals and the number of idle people who visit them.'' Should
the uninitiated in crime at first shrink from intercourse with the prison rabble, he
was subjected to every species of annoyance until, openly at least, he was com-
pelled to embrace the brotherhood. His contumacy, so long as it lasted, became
the subject of mock trials, in which generally the oldest and most dexterous thief
acted as judge, with a towel tied in knots hung on each side of his head for a wig ;
and he was in no want of officers to put his sentences into execution. '' Garnish,"
or "footing," or '^ chummage" (for it Avas called by all the three names), was
demanded of all new prisoners. *' Pay or strip," was the order, and the prisoner
without money was obliged to part with a portion of his scanty apparel to contri-
bute towards the expense of a riotous entertainment, the older prisoners adding
som.ething to the ^* garnish" paid by the new-comer. The practice of the prisoners
cooking their own food had not been long discontinued in 1818. Among other
objectionable practices were the profits which the wardsmen derived from supply-
ing prisoners with various articles, so that often they benefited by means which
tended to promote disorder. The difficulty of introducing a proper classification
of prisoners in Newgate led the Parliamentary Committee on Metropolitan Gaols
in 1818, to propose the classification of the prisons themselves, as Newgate for
felonies, before trial ; and other prisons for different classes of convicted offenders.
It is now nearly thirty years since Mrs. Fry commenced her well-known at-
tempts to improve the female prisoners in Newgate. In 1808, according to Sir
Richard Phillips, the number of w^omen in Newgate was usually from one hun-
dred to one hundred and thirty. The breadth allotted to each in their sleeping-
room was only eighteen inches ! The untried were mixed with the convicted, the
^ young and repentant offender with the hardened and profligate transgressor.
When Mrs. Fry commenced her benevolent task, the female wards were a scene of
uproar and confusion which defies description. The occupations and amusements of
the place, as Mrs. Fry states, were '' swearing, gaming, fighting, singing, dancing,
drinking, and dressing up in men's clothes." Some, however, were destitute of
328
LONDON.
clothing, and unfit to be seen. One girl spent ten shillings in one day for beer,
obtained in the name of other prisoners. Some of the women had scarcely suffi-
cient food to support existence, while others enjoyed delicacies sent in by their
friends. There was no certain supply of soap, and towels were not provided.
Notwithstanding that gradually a number of improvements have taken place in
the discipline and administration of Newgate, it is still defective, and radically so,
for the present building does not admit of the application of a proper system of
discipline. In 1836 the Inspectors of Prisons justly found fault with the evils of
gaol-contamination which prevail within its walls. The prisoners were enabled
to amuse themselves with gambling, card-playing and draughts. They could
obtain, by stealth it is true, the luxury of tobacco and a newspaper. Sometimes
they could get drunk. Instruments to facilitate prison-breaking were found in the
prison. Combs and towels were not provided, and the supply of soap was insuf-
ficient. In 1838 the Inspectors reported, that '^ this great metropolitan prison,
while it continues in its present state, is a fruitful source of demoralization." In
their last Report (the Seventh), dated 5th April, 1843, the Inspectors say : — " It
has been our painful duty again and again to point attention to the serious evils
resulting from gaol association and consequent necessary contamination in this
prison. The importance of this prison in this point of vicAv is very great. As
the great metropolitan prison for the untried, it is here that those most skilled in
crime of every form, those whom the temptations, the excesses, and the experience
of this great city have led through a course of crime to the highest skill in the arts
of depredation and to the lowest degradation of infamy, meet together with those
who are new to such courses, and who are only too ready to learn how they may
pursue the career they have just entered upon, with most security from detection
and punishment, and with greater success and indulgence. The numbers com-
mitted, nearly 4000 per annum, which have rapidly increased, and are still
increasing, render this a subject of still greater moment. Of this number about
one-fifth are acquitted; many of these return to their associates with increased
knowledge and skill in crime ; with lost characters ; with more hardened disposi-
tions from their association here with others worse than themselves ; and with
their sense of shame and self-respect sadly diminished, if not utterly destroyed, by
exposure to others, and by increased gaol acquaintances. Many others are sen-
tenced to short terms of imprisonment, and in like manner soon get back again to
their former courses and companions ; and each of these becomes a source of
greater mischief to the public, and of danger and seduction to the unwary and
inexperienced. We most seriously protest against Newgate as a great school of
crime. Associated together in large numbers and in utter idleness, frequently
moved from ward to ward, and thereby their prison acquaintance much en-
larged, we affirm that the prisoners must quit this prison worse than they
enter it. It is said that prisoners are here but for a short time, and there-
fore that much mischief cannot be done. Many of them are here for three
weeks and more, and are locked up together in numbers from three to twenty, #1
for twenty out of twenty-four hours, without the restraining presence even
of an officer, without occupation or resource, without instruction, except that
afforded by the daily chapel service, and by the short visits which a chaplain
can pay from ward to ward in so large a prison, and by the books which are
PRISONS AND PENITENTIARIES. 329
placed in the wards. At the end of three weeks what remains to be learnt that
lany inmate of a ward can teach? what narrative of guilty or sensual adventure
I remains untold? what anticipation of future success and indulgence that has not
been dwelt upon ? Some few have courage to fly from such mischievous com-
panionship, and ask, after a few hours' experience of the wards of Newgate, to be
placed in the separate cells ; but it is not to be expected that many will voluntarily
fly from company which distracts thought, to seclusion and their own unhappy
feflections. The arrangements however for these few are such as to deter them
from availing themselves of them. The solitary cells are the old condemned cells
of Newgate, which are now used as refractory cells for those who offend against
the discipline of the prison, or for those charged with unnatural offences^ or with
the most brutal crimes ; and if a young man, who has never before been in pri-
son— who wishes to retain the little good that remains to him — and who is dis-
gusted with the characters he has met in the prison, and the language and
conversation he has been obliged to hear, requests to be put apart, he is removed
to one of these cells. They are cold, ill ventilated, dark, small, and even without
a seat to sit upon. At our last inspection we found two young men of compara-
tively respectable appearance, who, disgusted with the bad conversation, the
oaths, and the indecent language which they said they had heard in the wards,
requested to be alone ; and who preferred solitude in these wretched cells to such
companionship. One had been a month in separate confinement under the most
unfavourable circumstances possible; and yet did not regret the choice he had
made.''
Within less than a stone's throw of Newgate is Giltspur Street Compter, now
used for criminals only, the debtors having been removed on the completion of
the Whitecross Street prison. It is under the jurisdiction of the Lord Mayor
and Aldermen, and is both a prison and a house of correction. Since July, 1842,
night-charges have no longer been sent here, but to the police station-houses.
The front looks west upon St. Sepulchre's Church and down Skinner Street; and
on the south it is bounded by the north side of Newgate Street ; and on the east
and north by the buildings of Christ's Hospital. The balls of the Christ's Hos-
pital scholars often fall into one of the prison-yards. What a contrast between the
two institutions and their respective inmates ! There is only one entrance, in
the centre of the front building. The area within is occupied by a multiplicity
of wards, yards, and sleeping-rooms, constructed without order or regularity, and
which defy the application of correct principles of prison discipline. Prisoners of
every denomination and character are here crowded together, with as little classi-
fication as in Newgate. The solitary confinement of this prison consists in the
prisoner being consigned to apartments in the front of the building, which enable
him to command a view of one of the greatest thoroughfares in the metropolis,
with its numerous moving incidents ; and although, when there is an execution
in front of Newgate, he cannot see the criminal turned ofiT, the street groups
below keep alive his interest in the proceedings. About 6000 prisoners are
annually committed to this prison ; and either their behaviour must be most ad-
mirable, and Giltspur Street is a most excellent penitentiary, or the officers of
the prison are most indulgent, for the number of prison punishments in one year
was only 20 ! This is one of the least secure of the metropolitan prisons, and
330 LONDON.
the escapes from it have been the most frequent. The Inspectors of Prisons,
after alluding to one or two causes which render the prison insecure, remark :
"There is another circumstance which renders this prison very insecure, but which
v.e do not think it prudent to notice." The number of visitors admitted daily
averages about 100, and on Sundays double this number. It is right to add that
considerable improvements have taken place within a very recent period in the
discipline and management of the prison, and that the City authorities have
shown a most laudable desire to amend the defects of a former period ; and, as a
proof of their zealous and enlightened spirit in this case, they have determined
upon pulling down the old prison, except the building fronting the street, and to
rebuild it upon the most improved principles of prison construction. When these
changes are effected, Newgate cannot long resist amendment.
Bridewell, another place of confinement within the City of London, is under
the jurisdiction of the Governors of Bridewell and Bethlehem Hospitals, but it is
supported out of the funds of the Hospital. The entrance is in Bridge Street,
Blackfriars. The prisoners confined here are persons summarily convicted by the
Lord Mayor and Aldermen, and are for the most part petty pilferers, misde-
meanants, vagrants, and refractory apprentices sentenced to solitary confinement;
which term need not terrify the said refractory offenders, for the persons con-
demned to *' solitude " can with ease keep up a conversation with each other from
morning to night. The total number of persons confined here in 1842 was 1324;
of whom 233 were under 17, and 466 were known or reputed thieves. In 1818
no employment was furnished to the prisoners. The men sauntered about from
hour to hour in those chambers where the worn blocks still stood and exhibited
the marks of the toil of those who, as represented in Hogarth's prints, were em-
ployed in beating hemp. The tread-mill has been now introduced, and more
than five-sixths of the prisoners are sentenced to hard labour, the '' mill " being
employed in grinding corn for Bridewell, Bethlem, and the House of Occupation.
The Seventh Report of the Inspectors of Prisons on the City Bridewell is as
follows : " The establishment answers no one object of imprisonment except that
of safe custod3^ It does not correct, deter, nor reform ; but v/e are convinced
that the association to which all but the City apprentices are subjected, proves
highly injurious, counteracts any efforts that can be made for the moral and reli-
gious improvement of the prisoners, corrupts the less criminal, and confirms the
degradation of the more hardened offender. The cells in the old part of the
prison are greatly superior to those in the adjoining building, which is compara-
tively of recent erection, but the whole of the arrangements of which are exceed-
ingly defective. It is quite lamentable to see such an injudicious and unprofitable
expenditure as that which was incurred in the erection of this part of the prison."
If we proceed from Newgate in a north-west direction, there are two important
prisons, Coldbath-fields and Clerkenwell. The former, according to the Inspectors
of Prisons, " is the largest and most important in the kingdom for criminal pur-
poses." Coldbath-fields House of Correction is in the parish of St. James,
Clerkenwell, between the church and Gray's Inn Road, and is under the juris-
diction of fourteen magistrates, appointed at each Quarter Sessions, of whom four
go out quarterly by rotation. It is for criminals from all parts of the county of
Middlesex. The number of prisoners confined in the course of the twelve months
PRISONS AND PENITENTIARIES. 331
ending Michaelmas, 1841, was 11,043, namely, 7331 males and 3712 females : as
many as 12,543 have been committed here in one year. The greatest number con-
fined at one time was 1215; and the daily average for the year was 1032. The
management of so large a number, and the regulation of the details and routine
of the daily discipline and proceedings of the prison, is a task which few men are
qualified to undertake. The Governor is assisted by 54 paid officers, including
2 chaplains ; and wardsmen and monitors are selected from the prisoners. There
are 43 different kinds of books of account kept. The prison is surrounded by a
high wall, varying in height from 18 to 23 feet ; and the prison buildings are in
three distinct divisions: — The principal, or old building, erected in 1794; 2. The
new vagrants' ward, completed in 1830 ; and, 3. The female prison or wards,
completed in 1832. The old prison forms a square with two wings ; and both
the centre and the wings are divided into parts, eight of which belong to the
centre and eight to the two wings. These divisions facilitate the classification of
the prisoners, though, from general structural defects, this classification is com-
paratively nugatory. The vagrants' ward, used also for reputed thieves, consists
of five radiating wings proceeding from a semicircular building, and these five
wings, with the four intermediate airing courts, constitute four yards. The
female wards constitute a distinct building, which does not differ much in its plan
from the vagrants' ward. There are two chapels, one for males, and the other for
females, in which there is service every morning. Some of the ladies connected
with the British Society for the Reformation of Female Prisoners visit the female
department of the prison to read the Scriptures, &c. There are six schools for the
instruction of boys ; also an adult school ; and 36 tread-mills, each calculated for
11 persons. Sentences of hard labour are worked out on " the mill," or in
picking oakum or coir, in menial offices, labour in the yards, in handicrafts neces-
sary for the service of the place, and in scouring and washing. Labour of this
kind, in a smaller proportion, is assigned to those who are not sentenced to "hard"
labour. The discipline enforced is that called the '' Silent System ;" the pri-
soners working in bodies, and silence being preserved by great vigilance on the
part of the officers of the prison and the wardsmen, their assistants. At night,
520 prisoners sleep in separate cells. Visitors are only received during two hours
of the day, on week days ; and an order must first be obtained from a magistrate,
who only grants it under pressing circumstances. If granted, the visitor's inter-
view lasts only a quarter of an hour, at a double iron grating, the visitor on one
side and the prisoner on the other, a turnkey being stationed between the two gate-
ways. The general practice, as it regards intercourse by letter, is to prohibit a
convicted person receiving a letter until six months of his imprisonment have
elapsed, and afterwards the permission only extends to one letter a month. It is
impossible to practise gambling under the discipline adopted at this prison,
which is highly distinguished for its efficiency. The Prison Inspectors, in their
Seventh Report, observe, " This prison continues to maintain its high character
for cleanliness, order, and strict government ; and the management throughout is
most creditable to the Governor and the officers under him." The prison offences for
the year ending Michaelmas, 1842, were,— -for neglect of work, 948 ; noise, talking^
insolence, bad language, 9562 ; various acts of disobedience or disorder, 5788 ; other
offences for which prisoners were put in the cells, 420 ; altogether, 16,808 offences.
332 LONDON.
It is needless to remark that the internal police of a j)rison is very materially
affected by the '' Silent System " of discipline : one half the punishments in
Cold bath-fields originate in this conventional restriction. In the prison penal
code the stoppage of a meal, half a pint of gruel, is the smallest penalty, and
solitary confinement on bread and water for three days, the maximum. Handcuffs
are used when violence is attempted. The cat-o'-nine-tails and the birch rod are
used, the latter, perhaps, too sparingly, for only 15 experienced its smart in 1841,
and the '' cat '' was used in only four cases. Whipping takes place in presence of
the offender's class, and the worst characters in the other classes.
Clerkenwell Prison, St. James's Walk, is the general receiving prison of the
county of Middlesex for persons committed either for examination before the
police magistrates, for trial at the sessions, for want of bail, and occasionally on
summary convictions. The prison was established by patent granted by James I.
to the Liberty of Clerkenwell ; but the greater part of the present building is of
the date of 1816, when the prison was altered and enlarged at an expense of
40,000/. ; but it is an ill-constructed edifice, and not at all in accordance with the
present improved plans of jDrison construction. On two sides the prison yards
are overlooked from the adjacent houses. The number of persons confined here
in the course of the year ending Michaelmas, 1841, was 3882; and the greatest
number at any one time was 158. The Inspectors of Prisons have frequently
directed attention in their Reports to the demoralizing effects of imprisonment
in this gaol. Prisoners for re-examination are subjected to the hardship of asso-
ciating with some of the worst criminal characters in the metropolis. A new
gaol for untried prisoners must, they remark, sooner or later be erected for the
county of Middlesex.
The Westminster Bridewell in Tothill-fields is a new building, erected at a
cost of 200,000/., and was first occupied by prisoners in June, 1834. It consists of
three principal divisions : — the gaol for males before trial ; the house of correc-
tion for male convicts; and the female prison, each on the radiating plan, and
comprising eight wards with corresponding airing yards; 42 day-rooms, and 288
single sleeping-cells. The centre of the prison forms an octangular court-yard,
250 feet across each way. The untried are associated, and so are the convicted,
but the latter are subjected to the discipline of the '^silent system." The num-
ber confined in the prison in 1841, was 5133.
Horsemonger Lane Prison, in St. Mary's, Newington^ is under the jurisdiction
of the Surrey county magistrates, and is a substantially-built structure, capable
of receiving 364 criminals. It is of a quadrangular form, with three stories above
the basement, and was completed for the reception of prisoners in 1798. One
side, appropriated to debtors, consists of three divisions — one for the master-
debtors, one for the common debtors, and the third for the inferior class of debt-
ors and the female debtors. The criminal division occupies the three other sides
of the building, arranged in ten wards, and the whole is surrounded, or nearly so,
by the prison garden. Prisoners have been drafted to the Westminster Bride-
well from Coldbath-fields^ and the consequence is that many of the advantages of
classification which it enjoyed are lost ; and, properly speaking, this prison is for
criminals and debtors from the city and liberties of Westminster. The ''silent
system " is in operatioiji for the cQnvicted prisoners. The number of prisoners
PRISONS AND PENITENTIARIES. 333
confined during the year ending Michaelmas, 1841, was 5133, including 161
debtors ; and the greatest number of prisoners at any one time was 395.
Before noticing the Millbank Penitentiary, and the Model Prison at Penton-
ville, we must briefly advert to the history of improvements in prisons and prison
discipline. These began with the labours of Howard, who, in 1775, published
his work on ' The State of the Prisons in England and Wales.' The manifest
evils of gaol association led to the publication of Bentham's ' Panopticon, or the
Inspection House,' and in 1791 he presented to Mr. Pitt his plan for prison
management, on the principle of his ' Panopticon.' Mr. Pitt and several of the
ministers entered into his views with the greatest readiness, but years were spent
in a fruitless struggle to bring them into operation, and it is now well known that
they were thwarted by the obstinacy of George III. The land on which the Peni-
tentiary now stands was paid for at the price of 12,000/., though a much more
advantageous site could have been obtained at BatterseaRise for half the money.
The Penitentiary at Millbank was not commenced until 1813. It was intended at
first for 300 males and 300 females ; but in 1816 an Act was passed authorising
the completion of accommodation for 400 males and 400 fem.ales; and three years
afterwards another Act extended the design, and 600 males and 400 females
were to be provided for. In 1835 another Act further increased the extent of the
Penitentiary, and adapted it for the confinement of 800 males and 400 females.
There are now above 1100 separate cells, and by subdividing a few of the larger
the number might be increased to 1200. The Separate System in England was
first brought into operation in 1 790, at the Gloucester County Gaol, under the
auspices of Sir George Paul, a magistrate of enlightened views, who, in conjunc-
tion with Howard and Judge Blackstone, devised a plan for a national peniten-
I tiary; and Sir George Paul, then an active magistrate of Gloucestershire, induced
the other magistrates of the county to give the plan a trial. It is an error to
suppose that the separate system was first introduced in the penitentiaries of the
United States. From 1790 to 1807 it was in most successful operation at Glou-
cester, until the increase of population outgroAV the accommodations of the prison.
The Millbank Penitentiary is in the parish of St. John, Westminster, but an
act was passed for making it extra-parochial. It stands on the left bank of the
Thames, about half a mile from the Houses of Parliament, and not far from the
foot of Vauxhall Bridge. The soil on which it is built is a deep peat, and the
prison buildings are laid on a mass of concrete. Still the lowness of the situation,
the extent of the mud-banks exposed at low tides to evaporation, the number of
deleterious manufactures carried on in the vicinity, render the prison any thing but
healthy. It was first occupied by prisoners in 1816, when a part only of the
Penitentiary was completed, and the whole was finished in 1821. At the end of
1823, in consequence of the prevalence of an alarming epidemic, the place was
temporarily abandoned, the prisoners being removed to the hulks, under a special
Act of Parliament, and it was not re-opened until August, 1824. The cost of the
buildings has exceeded half a million sterling, or at the rate of 500/. for each cell,
but as the number of prisoners has only once been so high as 878 (in 1823), and
the number of late years has not averaged 600, it is not extravagant to assume
that the mere lodging of each prisoner involves an amount of capital sunk of not
less than 1000/., for Avhich a builder would expect interest at the rate of 70/. or
834 LONDON.
80/. a year. By an Act passed in the session of 1843, the name of the Peniten-
tiary has been changed, and in future its proper designation will be the Millbank
Prison. It is under the control of the Secretar}^ of State, but is more immedi-
ately under a Committee, not exceeding twenty nor less than ten, nominated by
the Queen in Council. The prisoners are chiefly persons sentenced to transpor-
tation or to death, whose punishment has been commuted to imprisonment ; and
military delinquents. In their last Report but one, the Superintending Com-
mittee remark, that *'in consequence of a distressing increase in the number of
insane prisoners, the separate system has been relaxed." The prohibition of
intercourse is now limited to the first three months ; then a modified system of
intercourse is allowed, consisting of permission to converse during the hours
of exercise, with two or more fellow prisoners, a principle of classification being
observed with reference to age, character, and conduct; and the privilege is liable
to be suspended. In their last Report the Committee state that eighteen months
before the alteration of discipline took place, 15 prisoners became insane; in the
eighteen subsequent months only 5. The Inspectors of Prisons in their Seventh
Report state that the existing system of discipline ''is neither calculated to deter
from crime, nor contribute to the personal reformation of the offender.'* The
defective health of the prisoners has always been a great obstacle to the mainte-
nance of an efficient discipline.
The boundary wall of the Millbank Prison is nearly three miles in extent, with
only one entrance-gate. It encloses an area of sixteen acres, seven of which are
occupied by the prison-buildings and thirty airing-yards, and the remainder is
laid out as garden-ground. The plan of the prison-buildings is most intricate :
arranged in the form of a pentagon, though a sixth angle has been added.
In each pentagon there are twelve cell-passages, each 152 feet long, or 1824 feet in
each pentagon, or 10,944 feet in the six — a length of cell -passages two miles in
extent. These passages are broken m^ost inconveniently by 54 angles, into lengths
of 50 yards each; so that to command a view of 100 yards of the passages it is
necessary to stand at one of the angles. Besides these cell-passages there are
others communicating with the two infirmaries, the two chapels, airing-yards,
punishment-cells, &c. There are 28 circular staircases, and 12 square staircases,
each of which is the same height as the building ; making, in all, a distance of
three miles to be traversed in going over that part of the building appropriated
to prisoners. The Inspectors of Prisons state, that in consequence of the inju-
dicious plan of construction, two or three times as many officers are required in
the Penitentiary as would have been necessary under a better arrangement.
It is at the new Model Prison at Pentonville that we must expect to see carried
out the views of the most enlightened minds of the present day on the subject of
prison discipline. The contest between the " Silent System" (recommended by
a committee of the House of Lords in 1835), and the '' Separate System" seems
to have gradually become most favourable to the latter mode of discipline, though
the '' Separate System" has often been confounded with the punishment of
solitary confinement. The Model Prison is a place of instruction and probation,
and not a gaol of oppressive punishment. It is for adults between the ages of
eighteen and thirty-five : the Reformatory Prison at Parkhurst, in the Isle of
Wight, for juvenile offenders, is on the same principle. The Commissioners for
PRISONS AND PENITENTIARIES. 335
the control of the Model Prison are nominated by the Queen in Council ; and the
correct name of the place is " The Model Prison, on the Separate System." The
objects to be kept in view are thus explained by Secretary Sir James Graham,
in a letter addressed to the Commissioners in December, 1842 : — " I propose
that no prisoner shall be admitted into Pentonville without the knowledo-e
that it is the portal to the penal colony; and without the certainty that he bids
adieu' to his connexions in England, and that he must look forward to a
life of labour in another hemisphere. But from the day of his entrance into the
prison, while I extinguish the hope of return to his family and friends, I would
open to him fully and distinctly the fate which awaits him, and the degree of
influence which his own conduct will infallibly have over his future fortunes.
He should be made to feel that from that day he enters on a new career. He
should be told that his imprisonment is a period of probation; that it will not be
prolonged above eighteen months ; that an opportunity of learning those arts
which will enable him to earn his bread will be afforded under the best instruc-
tors ; that moral and religious knowledge will be imparted to him as a guide for
his future life; that at the end of eighteen months, when a just estimate can be
formed of the effect produced by the discipline on his character, he will be sent
to Van Diemen's Land, there, if he behave well, at once to receive a ticket of
leave, which is equivalent to freedom, with the certainty of abundant mainte-
nance, the fruit of industry ; if he behave indifferently, he will be transported to
Van Diemen's Land, there to receive a probationary pass, which will secure to
him only a limited portion of his own earnings, and which will impose certain
galling restraints on his personal liberty ; if he behave ill, and if the discipline
of the prison be ineffectual, he will be transported to Tasman's Peninsula, there
to work in a probationary gang, without wages, deprived of liberty, an abject
convict. This is the view which should be presented to the prisoner on the day
when he enters Pentonville ; this is the view which should never be lost sight of,
either by him or by those in authority over him, until the day when he leaves the
prison for embarkation ; and when^ according to the register to be kept of his con-
duct, the Governors will determine in which of the three classes he shall be placed."
^, The Model Prison is situated between Pentonville and Holloway, and occupies
an area of 6| acres, surrounded by lofty boundary walls. The first stone of the
prison building was laid in May, 1840, and it has been completed at an expense
of 85,000/. The cells are each 13 feet long, 7 feet broad, and 9 feet high, and
are all of uniform dimensions. Each is provided with a stone water-closet pan,
a metal basin supyjlied with water, a three-legged stool, a small table, a shaded
gas-burner, and a hammock, with mattress and blankets. There is a bell in each
cell, which when pulled causes a small iron tablet inscribed with the number of
the cell to project on the wall to direct the officer on duty. Each cell is warmed
by hot air, and the ventilation is effected by means of perforated iron plates
above the door of the cell, which communicate with a lofty shaft. None of the
prisoners will ever be seen by each other, and in chapel each has his separate
box. The officers wear felted shoes, and can inspect the prisoners, whether in
the cell or in the airing-yard, without being either heard or seen.
Each prisoner will be visited hourly during the day by a keeper, daily by the
336
LONDON.
deputy-governor and chief officer; and the surgeon and schoolmaster will be
frequently in attendance upon him. Books will be supplied to him, and the
trade which he exercises will occupy his mind. The prisoners are to be per-
mitted to lay their complaints before the visiting Commissioners. Many modes
of secondary punishment have failed, but the one to be pursued at the Model
Prison is an experiment founded on past experience of the deficiency of other
systems, and promises at length to be successful.
The Philanthropic Institution and the Refuge for the Destitute belong rather
to another class of institutions, though they are partially of a penitentiary cha
racter ; but we shall notice them elsewhere.
[Newgat..]
CXXIL— LONDON NEWSPAPERS.
The Englishman cannot exist without his newspaper. Foreigners laugh some-
times at the Englishman and his tea-kettle. '' They are inseparable," they say.
" If he goes to the top of Mont Blanc, to the North Pole, or to Central Africa,
'tis all the same : he must carry it with him." The newspaper is^ however, a
still more indispensable necessary of life. Give the working-man his pint of beer,
and he will not ask for tea, but he must have his newspaper. Every county-
town has its newspaper ; every distant colony, however remote, recent, or small.
The first regular settlers in New Zealand had the first number of their colonial
newspaper printed in London, and the second a few days after they landed.
Melbourne (Port Philip) and Adelaide (South Australia), the foundations of
which were unlaid ten years ago, have each their four or five newspapers. Nay,
the very military stations — the cantonments of our armies in the East — must
have their newspapers ; and the ' Hong-kong Gazette ' is already more than a
year old. In all the new settlements of Englishmen the order of proceedings
appears to be : — First, to run up sheds to cover themselves from the weather ;
next to kindle a fire and set the tea-kettle on to boil ; and then to set about
printing a newspaper, though it should be done, like the ' Auckland Observer,'
by a mangle instead of an ordinary printing-press. These three necessaries
VOL. V. z
338 LONDON.
insured, John Bull is contented — breeches will come in time, when those he has
brought with him are worn out.
The newspaper is a European invention^ and a necessary consequence of the
invention of the printing-press. There were substitutes for newspapers even
before Faust and Guttenberg, but poor shabby makeshifts they were. The
Komans had their Acta Dlurna, a daily manuscript paper, both under the re-
public and the empire. It appears to have contained an abstract of the proceed-
ings of public assemblies^ of the law-courts, of the punishment of offenders,
accounts of any public buildings or other works in progress, together with a list
of births, deaths, marriages, and divorces. It is not only in the staple materials
of the Acta Diurna that we find a close parallel to our modern newspaj)ers. The
manner in which the former were '' got up " appears to have been not unlike
what now prevails. "^ The due supply of information," says a writer in the
' Penny Cyclopaedia/ '^on political and judicial affairs, was to be obtained, as now,
by reporters (actuarii). In the celebrated debate of the Roman Senate upon
the punishment of those who had been concerned in the Catilinarian conspiracy,
we find, the first mention of short-hand writers, who were specially employed by
Cicero to take down the speech of his friend Cato." The Senate of Rome
appears to have been as jealous of the reporters' gallery as the British Par-
liament. It was a close court until the first consulship of Julius Csesar, who
no sooner entered upon his office than he made provision for giving the same
publicity to all the proceedings of the Senate that already existed for the more
popular assemblies. Under the despotism of Augustus and his successors, pub-
licity was inconvenient, and prohibited ; the subordinate assemblies had lost
their political importance ; and with the extinction of political news the Acta
Diurna lost their interest. At the best this state gazette can have been but a
meagre document: the conversational wit of Horace, and the dainties of Apicius,
may have equalled anything modern times have known; but Cicero himself
never knew what it was to have ' The Times ' on his table at breakfast. Perhaps
in the police and crim. con. department the Acta Diurna were equal to any mo-
dern newspaper. Not a gazette appears, says Seneca, without its divorce, so
that our matrons, from constantly hearing of them, soon learn to follow the
example.
In all civilised or ^^?/2/-civilised countries the profession of news-writer (as it is
to be found in the East at this day) was probably followed; but the services of
the news-writer were hired out to private patrons. Before the introduction of
printed newspapers it would appear that our great English families had private
gazetteers in London, who transmitted the news of the day to them in written
letters. This custom accounts for the following memorandum extracted from
the archives of the Clifford family by Whitaker, in his ' History of Craven : ' —
' To Captain Robinson, by my lord's commands, for writing letters of news to
his lordship for half-a-year, — five pounds." (The ''private correspondent" of
any respectable provincial journal has in our days a guinea a letter.) As the
people in any state rose into importance, their governors found it necessary to
keep them in good humour by telling them, or pretending to tell them, what it
was about. Thus the war which the republic of Venice waged against the Turks
in Dalmatia in 1563 is said to have given rise to the custom of communicating
LONDON NEWSPAPERS. 339
military and commercial news by written sheets^ which were read in a particular
place to those desirous to hear them^ who paid for this privilege in a small coin
then current, called gazzetta, a name which came in time to be transferred to the
written sheets themselves. The Venetian government ultimately gave these
announcements in a regular manner once a month ; but they were too jealous
ever to allow them to be printed. Only a few written copies were transmitted to
various places, and read to those who paid to hear. A device of the same kind
(but with the aid of the printing-press) is said to have been resorted to by the
ministers of Queen Elizabeth. Copies of a printed paper, called ' The English
Mercurie, published by Authoritie for the Contradiction of False Reports,' are
preserved in the Library of the British Museum (Dr. Birch's ' Historical Collec-
tions,' No. 4106). They relate to the attempted descent of the Spanish Armada,
and are numbered 50, 51, and 54, in the corner of their upper margins. No
more recent numbers of this publication are known to exist. Strong doubts have
been expressed of the authenticity of those now mentioned ; we believe that they
may most safely be set down as forgeries. But that other European governments,
both at that time and earlier, had occasionally adopted the Venetian plan, appears
to be beyond dispute. ' Gazette ' has become the designation for the notifica-
tions of civil governments, just as ' bulletin ' has for those of victorious generals —
and the estimation of both on the score of veracity stands very nearly on a par.
Gazettes of this kind are not exactly newspapers, nor can newspapers, with strict
accuracy, be said to have originated with them, though they undoubtedly sug-
gested hints as to topics and arrangement, and even their name has been bor-
rowed by newspapers properly so called.
The newspaper proper is a pamphlet, published periodically. The invention
of the printing-press, if it did not give birth to the pamphlet, certainly increased
its frequency and power over public opinion. Pamphlets were of two kinds:
there were the letters, exhortations, discussions of isolated points of politics or
theology of Luther, his associates, or adversaries ; and there was the pamphlet
of news. In this island John Knox's ' First Blast of the Trumpet against the
monstrous Regiment of Women,' was a specimen of the former ; and the * News
out of Holland,' published in 1619, for N. Newberry, of the latter. The periodi-
cal appearance of the ' News-book' — the continuing the same name to it, and dis-
tinguishing each successive publication by a number — followed as a matter of
course. A news-collector, of established reputation, found this the best way of
" setting his mark" upon his publications ; a printer found it convenient to have
such continuous employment for his press. The object of the private news-pub-
lisher was really and truly to communicate all he knew, and to learn as much as
he could, for the reputation and consequent sale of his work would depend
upon the quantity and quality of its contents. The Government Gazettes, on
the other hand, were as often meant to conceal as to publish, and, at all events,
sought to give a convenient colouring to what they did tell. The defect of the
newspaper arose from the difficulty of getting at the real truth ; it was necessarily
made up in a great measure of second-hand gossip. This long kept newspaper
information at a low estimate, aided by the want of the official stamp of authen-
ticity and the natural propensity of gossips to undervalue all information that
is not exclusive : what was printed was common property, or, as Ben Jonson hath
z2
340 LONDON.
it in his ' Staple of News/ had ceased to be news by being printed. The quid-
mines of provincial towns, who go about swelling with importance because they
have a scrap of intelligence in the hand-writing of their own especial M.P.
(which, ten to one, he picked out of the morning papers), are the concentrated
essence of this feeling ; but, more or less diluted, it pervades all minds.
The newspaper, we have said, is a European invention, and we may add,
that it is of one or other of two types — the London or the Parisian. It is difficult
to say with precision when periodical newspapers began to be published : they
grew into form by degrees. They appear to have originated in London and
Paris nearly about the same time. Newberry's *^News out of Holland,' of 1619,
alluded to above, was followed in 1620, 1621, and 1622 by other papers of news
from different countries. In 1622 the exploits of Gustavus Adolphus excited
great curiosity, especially in so Protestant a country as England; and about that
time these occasional pamphlets appear to have been first converted into a series
of periodical brochures. ' The News of the present Week,' edited by Nathaniel
Butter, seems to have been the first weekly newspaper in England. The ori-
ginator of newspapers at Paris is said to have been one Renaudot, a physician,
who had found that it was conducive to success in his profession to be able to tell
his patients the news. Seasons were not always sickly, but his taste for collect-
ing news was always the same, and he began to think there might be some
advantage in printing his intelligence periodically. His scheme succeeded, and
in 1632 he obtained a privilege for publishing news.
Various circumstances contributed to establish a permanent difference between
the London or insular and the Parisian or continental type of newspapers. The
first of these is the broad and essential distinction between the social character
of the two cities, which has marked them from the beginning of their history.
The wealth and power of Paris and London, rather than any recommendation of
local fitness, has made them the capitals of their respective countries. The
Governments of France and Great Britain did not choose Paris and London for
their metropolitan seats, but were obliged to take their residence in these centres
of civil activity and influence. But the wealth and influence of Paris and London
sprung from very different sources — the former was made by its university, the
latter by its commerce. Paris, the seat of what was once the European University,
became at an early period, what it has ever since remained, the focus of the intel-
lectual activity of Europe. A Parisian diploma was from early times the passport
to the highest employments in church and state ; its literary circle was constantly
recruited by the most ambitious and clever men of the age from all countries.
Paris became the natural head of the constitutional opposition in the Romish
church. The Kings of France were less the patrons than the allies of the University
of Paris and its ecclesiastical party. The science and literature of Paris, its law,
theology, and general learning out-grew the precincts of the university, but the
organised phalanx of intellect maintained its unity, even when dispersed through
a parliament, a Sorbonne, and academies and colleges innumerable. The intel-
lect of Paris through centuries stood France in lieu of a constitution. " The
League" was in the ascendant as long as Paris supported it: the '* Monarchy"
triumphed as soon as Paris threw itself into the King's scale. Louis XIV. did
not create French literature, art, and science : he put a court livery on them to
I
LONDON NEWSPAPERS. 341
conciliate their support. They served him better than armies. They upheld
the French throne and its influence in Europe while they remained courtly, and
they overthrew it when they became popular. Even in our day the literary
spirit of Paris is in the ascendant while Thiers and Guizot contend for the
mastery. London, on the other hand, has had many eminent scholars, and lite-
rary and scientific men ; but London never has been itself literary or scientific :
it never was the seat of a university (till recently, and the plant is still a hot-
house one). But the relative position of London to the Continent made it,
before the discoveries of the Portuguese, the seat of British commerce : all the
ramifications of early British trade came to centre in London ; and when new
worlds were laid open to European enterprize, and England from its situation
came to engross the lion's share of the trade, London continued the great broker
or agent of all England. The Kings of England called London their treasury,
and naturally chose to reside near or in it ; and the merchants of London caught
the spirit of statesmen, but without acquiring the refinement of scholars. The
newspapers of two capitals so very different received, camelion-like, their hue
from the nearest objects : those of Paris have, from the first, displayed more taste,
more power of amusing, but also more of scholastic abstraction. Rougher and
less highly finished, the journals of London have grappled with the practical
questions of life in a more judicious and manly spirit.
Another of the circumstances alluded to, and it is the only other that calls for par-
ticular notice, is the very different political character and relations of the two ca-
pitals, and also of their countries. Wealth procured by individual enterprise begets
that independent confident spirit which struggles against organization and con-
troul ; professional scholarship, whether of the church or the law, or any auxiliary
sciences, begets a respect for established order — the ambitious wish to direct it,
the less aspiring require its advantages and submit to it. The natural temper of
the London public threw them into the popular scale in our national tumults ;
the natural temper of the Parisians threw them into many factions, but always
among the supporters of power. The Paris of the League, or of Henri IV. — the
Paris of the Fronde, or of Mazarin — was always the supporter of a government :
it opposed the king to uphold the kingly power. London, on the other hand,
struggled for individual self-will against all or any government. The newspaper
press of either city caught in this respect also that city's character ; and the dif-
ference was rendered wider and more marked by the different progress of the
historical development of the frame of government in the two countries. The
great struggle between the popular and monarchical principle was fought out in
France, and decided in favour of the monarchy before newspapers arose ; it was
fought out in England after their invention, in no slight degree by their means,
and by their means, in great part, decided in favour of popular government with
the greatest possible respect for individual rights. From the time of Renaudot the
newspaper press in France was licensed : it was prepared by walking in a go-cart
in infancy, to walk gracefully in chains in its maturer years. The newspaper
press in London was a chartered libertine from the beginning, and no attempt to
license it was ^long persisted in. " The Intelligencer, published for the satis-
faction and information of the people, with privilege," by " Roger L'Estrange,
Esq.," gave so little satisfaction, that in the course of little more than two years it
342 LONDON.
was superseded by the ' Gazette/ the mere vehicle of government advertisements,
and the real newspaper trade again left free to private enterprise.
The manufacture of English newspapers was for a long time confined exclu-
sively to London. It was not till 1706 that a provincial newspaper was known
in England. The first was the ' Norwich Postman,* published in that year at
the charge of a penny, but " a halfpenny not refused." A newspaper was intro-
duced in Scotland,but as an exotic or hot-house luxury, about half a century earlier.
During the '' great rebellion," a party of Cromwell's troops, sent to Leith in
1652, for the purpose of garrisoning the citadel^ took a printer with them, one
Christopher Higgins, to reprint a London diurnal, called ' Mercurius Politicus,*
for their amusement and edification. Edinburgh being then a capital, continued
from that time to have its newspaper (though with intervals) ; but the earliest
permanent Scotch newspapers were the ' Edinburgh Courant' (1705), and the
* Caledonian Mercury' (1720). Ireland, like Scotland, had its exotic short-lived
newspaper during the civil war; but the earliest Irish paper Avas Pue*s ' Occur-
rences,' started in 1700. The earliest Colonial newspapers (Boston and New
York) were also commenced during the first decennium of the eighteenth century.
All new provincial newspapers — of the English school — were framed upon the
model of the London Journals, and their successors have continued to follow close
in the wake of the London newspaper press, copying from time to time its im-
provements, and always deriving the greater part of their news from it. Even
the portentous activity of the New York Journals, Avith their agents boarding
packet-ships and steamers out at sea in search of news, is merely a scramble to
get hold of the earliest London newspapers, in order to " gut them."
London newspapers have a local habitation as well as a name. The greater
part of them are printed and published in the Strand and Fleet Street, and the
immediately adjoining parts of the streets which cross them from a little way Avest
of Waterloo Bridge, and a very little way east of Blackfriars. This region is the
great exchange or mart of intelligence in London — the '' staple of news," to
borrow a phrase from rare Ben Jonson. This part of London is a very Temple
of Fame. Here rumours and gossip from all regions of the Avorld come pouring
in, and from this echoing hall are reverberated back in strangely modified echoes
to all parts of Europe. It is impossible to conceive the restless activity — the
unintermitting fever and fret of intellect — the ceaseless clanking of steam-engines
— the sleepless drudgery of human thinking and physical faculties — the money
spent and earned in this region, except by going a little into the detail of the com-
piling, printing, and publishing of newspapers, and the statistics of the newspaper
trade.
There are three distinct classes whose business is about newspapers. There
are the intellectual workers (by courtesy called so, for with some of them it is a
sufficiently mechanical kind of work), or compilers and composers of newspapers ;
there are the mechanical workers, or printers of all grades and denominations ;
and there are the publishers, newsvenders, &c., whose business it is, by wholesale
or retail, to aid in disseminating the completed work. The connexion between
the composers and printers of newspapers is more or less intimate and permanent ;
the publishers and these two classes are in general rather more independent of
each other^heir connexion is more precarious.
LONDON NEWSPAPERS. 343
The London newspapers are generally spoken of as divided into three classes :
two will serve our present purpose — the daily, and those which are published at
longer intervals. The daily papers are, at least in a mercantile point of view,
the more important. It was assumed, in 1840, that the capital invested in the
daily papers of London did not amount to less than .500,000/. Of this about two-
thirds was assumed to be represented by the morning papers. It is by these that
the greatest expense is incurred in the collection of materials — the employment of
parliamentary reporters, foreign correspondents, and other gleaners of informa-
tion. The expenses of the evening newspapers are for these items comparatively
trifling ; they are in the habit of taking great part of their news from the morn-
ing papers. The outlay of the less frequently published papers is still less. Of
those which are published twice or thrice a-week, a good many are indeed mere
rechauffes of the dailies — a dishing-up of their news in another form for another
class of readers. The weeklies have in general a separate and independent
existence, but they too are generally beholden for their mere news in great part
to the dailies.
The ' Times ' — the leading journal — may be taken as an example of the
manner in which a daily paper is got up ; the others are, making allowance for
difference of scale and expenditure, conducted much in the same manner. In 1840
—(there have been changes since, but only in the personnel and the inferior mat-
ters of detail ; for our purpose, which is not to calculate the value of the property,
but to give an idea of the system of management, the old story will do equally
well ; indeed, better, as it relieves us from all personal reflections). In 1840, then,
the ' Times ' had, or was understood to have, three editors, fifteen or sixteen re-
porters, at a very liberal annual salary, with an uncertain number of foreign
correspondents, news collectors, and occasional contributors. For the mere
mechanical department of the business there were three or four clerks, three or
four readers, twelve attendants on the machinery, and about fifty compositors.
There was one controlling editor, to whose inspection everything was subjected,
and who had a voice omnipotent as to the insertion or rejection of all articles.
Such a presiding genius is found indispensable, in the first place, to insure unity
of plan and purpose ; and, in the second place, to prevent mistakes in judgment,
or oversights which might bring the journal under the tender mercies of the law.
The other editors confine themselves to departments ; one was the foreign editor,
and so on. The reporters were engaged to report the proceedings in Parliament,
or in the Courts of Law while sitting, and the most stirring transactions of the
provinces, at intervals when any important movement is going on — more especially
during the parliamentary recess. The foreign correspondents are generally gen-
tlemen, with professional pursuits, resident at the capital whence their letters are
most frequently dated. The foreign intelligence is compiled from the foreign
journals, from the communications of the regular correspondents, and sometimes
from information volunteered from diff*erent sources. The Parliamentary debates
are supplied by relays of reporters — a certain number to each House. When an
important debate is expected in either House of Parliament, a detachment of
reporters — say four — are placed upon it. The first reporter takes notes for an
hour, before the end of which time the second is by his side ready to relieve him.
The first then hurries to the ' Times ' office to write out his note§ for the com-
344 LONDON.
positors. The second remains for an hour, and then hurries away like the former;
while the third is taking notes for another hour ; and he is followed in the same
manner by the fourth. The first reporter is now ready to succeed the fourth ;
he takes notes for another hour, is relieved by the second, and so on till the House
breaks up. The time of taking notes is frequently limited to three-quarters of an
hour, or even less. By this process the whole of a series of debates, which began
at four or five in the afternoon, and continued till three or four in the morning,
is issued to the public within a few hours after the debate has terminated. Acci-
dents and offences, provincial incidents, and the like, are supplied by a class of
contributors who have no regular engagement, but are paid by the job. The
' Times,' when composed, is printed by a machine w^orked by steam-power,
capable of printing 2500 copies in an hour, 'perfect — that is, on both sides. The
paper is generally put to press at five in the morning, and at ten the whole im-
pression is worked off. Mr. Babbage, after describing the manner in which
eight-and-forty columns are formed into eight pages and placed on the platform
of the printing-machine, says : '^ Ink is rapidly supplied to the moving types by
the most perfect mechanism : four attendants incessantly introduce the edges of
large sheets of white paper to the junction of two great rollers, which seem to
devour them with unsated appetite ; other rollers convey them to the type already
inked, and having brought them into rapid and successive contact, re-deliver
them to four other assistants completely printed by the almost momentary touch."
The ' Times,' when printed, consists of eight pages of six columns each. The
printed area of the whole paper (both sides) is more than 19J square feet,
or a space of nearly five feet by four. On a rough estimate, it contains about
1 1 3,000 words. Compared with an octavo volume, having a page of print mea-
suring 3^ by 6i inches, the area of the ' Times ' is equal to more than 120 of
the octavo pages ; and allowing for difference in size of type, to perhaps 200.
In addition to this the ' Times ' has of late, in order to find room for its adver-
tisements, been accompanied by a supplement of half the size of the paper, on an
average three times a- week. All this is sold to the public at the price of bd.
The enormous circulation and the charge for advertisements enables the pro-
prietors to incur the expenditure above indicated, allow a fair profit to publishers
and newsvenders, and grow rich themselves by their property. During the last
quarter of 1842, the ' Times ' took out 1,475,000 stamps, and paid 3500/. IZ^*. of
advertisement duty. All the other morning papers have a similar establishment
to the ' Times,' though on a smaller scale : the establishments of the evening
papers are of course rather less expensive. Some estimate of the comparative
influence of the different daily journals upon public opinion, and of their com-
parative value as properties, may be formed by the aid of the following extract
from the returns of the newspaper stamp and advertisement duty for the last
quarter of 1842:—
Morning Papere. Stamps.
Times 1,475,000
Morning Chronicle . 444,000
Morning Herald . . . 377,000
Morning Post .... 275,000
Morning Advertiser . . 365,000
Advertisement Duty.
£3500
17
0
868
4
0
540
16
6
835
11
6
453
10
6
LONDON NEWSPAPERS. 345
Evening Papers. > Stamps. Advertisement Duty.
Globe 250,000 £212 14 0
Standard 240,000 202 17 6
Morning and Evening Paper. 5
Sun 279,000 310 13 0
The weekly newspapers (for the papers published thrice a-week are in general
nere pendomts of the dailies, and those published twice a-week do not differ in
my material respects from their weekly brethren) take the staple of their news
rem the daily papers. Their outlay is chiefly incurred for literary or political
ommunications, and for printing. Some weekly papers have their own esta-
)lishments, while others employ a printer to do the work at his own establish-
aent. When the proprietors print their own paper, they require to engage a
)rinter or manager, whose duty it is to give out the copy to the compositors, to
ee that the proofs are ready by the time the editor requires them, to put the
irticles into columns, arrange paragraphs, &c. &c. A reader is also employed
0 read the first proofs, after the compositor has put the types together. The
lumber of compositors varies in such an establishment from five to thirty ; an extra
lumber being generally required at the end of the week, when the late news has
0 be finished off, or when supplements are given. The majority of weekly
japers are now, however, printed under contract by some established London
)rinter with his own materials. The proprietors find this more economical than
^^oing to the expense of taking and paying rent for a printing-office, purchasing
bunts of type and all other materials, and, in short, incurring all the expenses
v^hich printing is heir to. This is not the only new subdivision of employments
.nd combination of labour occasioned of late years by the increased capitals in-
vested in the printing business, the general adoption of the steam-press, &c. : there
ire proprietors, who have their paper composed on their own premises by their
)wn workmen, and have it printed off at the steam-press of some of the great
)rinters. Such arrangements have a twofold effect, — they encourage the starting
)f new papers by diminishing the pecuniary risk ; and they increase the number
)f short-lived newspapers ; for when less capital is invested in dead stock, men let
^0 a losing or not very profitable speculation more lightly. On the whole,
lowever, they give greater vivacity to the newspaper business. If the weekly
oapers are shorter lived, there are always successors to those which drop off ready
0 rush into the field — there are more of them jostling and squabbling for a
circulation at the same time. If the magnificent scale on which operations are
conducted at the * Times ' office in Printing House Square is striking from its
nagnitude, the getting up of the multitudinous weekly papers in some of the
ourts of Fleet Street is perhaps the more bustling and vivacious subject of
contemplation. Several adjoining courts may have their half-dozen printing
establishments each ; and to each of these editors and sub-editors (great part of
vhose work is done elsewhere) repair for a few hours in each week to superintend
he progress of printing. The houses which lay themselves out for this kind of
ibusiness have rooms fitted up to accommodate the editors at their periodical
jnsits. Sometimes, in addition to two, three, or four different newspapers com-
jposed and printed at one of those establishments, there may be the ** forms" of
:wo or three more duly transmitted to be printed. The head-work which passes
316 LONDON.
through those establishments in its way to the public is inconceivable, both >
its quantity and varied quality. The fingers of the compositors cease not; tl :
clash and clang of the steam-press knows no intermission. In the topics ar
manner of treating them the establishment takes no concern. Nonconformist'
Railway Times^ Illustrated News, Roman Catholic, Colonial, and all otlu
kinds of organs or mouthpieces are set up and thrown off with the same co:
scientious accuracy, and the same utter indifference to their contents. The
j^rinting establishments are indeed machines which receive without feeling t
tender thoughts of anxious and harassed editors and contributors^ and tease a
shake them into a shape fit to appear before the public, incapable of sympathisi
with the anxious anticipations of the brain-parents.
And now having got our newspapers into shape^ let us look to the mode (I
their publication. The business of the publisher is to deal out to the differe
newsmen the number of papers they require, and receive payment for them,
is a feature of the nev/s-trade, as between publisher and newsvender, deserving
notice, that it is essentially a ready-money business. Except in some few caseil
or under peculiar circumstances, no credit is given. The newsman knows that h
must get his paper or lose his customer, and the publisher is thus enabled to die
tate his own terms. The publisher, properly speaking, is a person appointed b
proprietors, with more or less extensive powers of management, to dispose of theil
paper to the retail dealers, or news-agents. But there is a class of newsmen wh
from the extent and nature of their dealings, come very near to the published
and are indeed generally called by that name. Their business consists in buyinj
large quantities of newspapers of all sorts, and retailing them to the trade. Thei
profits are derived from an allowance of Id. on every nine papers that sell at 5o
each, and 2d. on every nine papers that sell at 6d, each. Newsvenders, in a smal
way, who do not sell so many as nine of any paper, find it more convenient to sen(
to a shop, Avhere they get their papers as cheap as if they sent to each office, an(
get all they want at once. The profit of a penny or twopence on nine papers ma;
appear trifling ; but when it is taken into account that several of these publisher
will take more than a hundred quires of some papers, it will be apparent how {
great many pennies must come to a considerable sum.
The small newsvenders, just mentioned, supply only private customers in coun
try or town. They are thickly scattered, not only through the town and suburbs
but are to be found in the towns and villages round about for many miles. Then
are some who live as far as six or eight miles from town, and yet send daily t(
their publisher for papers. It will be evident that this class cannot depend en
tirely upon their small trade in newspapers for a subsistence, but must take to i
merely in order to eke out other ways and means. There is among them a con
siderable diversity of character and employment : most frequently they are, espe
cially in the suburbs, stationers, booksellers, or circulating-library keepers in a
small way, and with their occupation newsvending seems to connect itself mos
legitimately and naturally. But there are interlopers of all trades : greengrocers
who bring out a few papers in the same little spring-van that goes to Coven
Garden for vegetables ; barbers, who in the semi-rural environs of the metropolis
are as great gossips as ever; and the whole tribe of small huxters. Sometimes
your newsvender (in the suburbs and suburban villages) is a lady-like person.
Ills
ct
?i
ISl
LONDON NEWSPAPERS. 347
horn the clergyman and good ladies of the neighbourhood have set up and pa-
tronise in a small elegant stationer's shop. Sometimes the newsvender is a
ompous gentleman in black, with an immense gold chain and seals — so grand,
'ou can scarcely conceive how so great a man comes to be fiddling with an assort-
lent of second (or third or fourth) hand books, most of them exposed in the open
ir, and a library (by courtesy so-called) consisting of some hundred or two of
very soiled volume of the most common-place modern novels, evidently picked
p as chance bargains. At last you find that he was regularly bred in some large
ookselling shop, but either could never contrive to get into business for himself,
r having got in could not contrive to manage it, and so subsided into his suburban
rom-hand-to-mouth trade. The lady's shop is generally the resort of the reli-
;ious gossips of the neighbourhood — she is secretary to half-a-dozen small coal,
'^^ 6up, and clothing societies, and carries on a little manufacture in Berlin wools.
The gentleman's shop is the resort of the more free-thinking, literary, and poli-
ical characters of the vicinity, to whom he recounts his experiences of the inner-
own life — affects to know all its ways — explains intricate political questions (he
^ generally a liberal with a strong dash of the aristocrat), and is particularly elo-
quent on the degeneracy of modern newspapers. '' If he had 50,000/. to begin
Hth, he could show what a really liberal newspaper might and ought to be made."
is a counterpart to these gentilities we must not forget their neighbour the
adical newsvender. He is generally a shrewd self-educated artisan, who, having
')een bitten by a mad politician, has got thrown out of employment, if, indeed, he
lave not fared worse. Being a high-spirited man, he will not live on agitation as
L trade ; his own is closed against him ; so a number of friends agree to take
heir stationery and papers from him, in order to start him in a small shop. He
ooks pretty steadily to the general business, and his wife (a woman such as
ngland alone can produce — whose love was at first a sentiment of admiration
fer one whom his class regarded as their champion), minds the details. He is not
Ijuite cured of his taste for public business ; but he struggles earnestly to confine
t to a safe channel. He is secretary to some anti- corn-law association; or an
pposition member of the vestry ; or, if no better employment in this way is to be
bad, he puts up with a mechanics' institution. His wife thinks in her secret soul
that they might prosper better if he would keep himself entirely to their own
business ; but she never breathes a word about it, for it might make him give up
what he takes so much pleasure in. He has himself misgivings of the same kind,
md every time the twinge comes across him attends with double vigour to busi-
ness for two or three days. On the whole they scramble on tolerably well — never
out of difficulties, never sinking under them — respected by all who know them.
A much bigger person than the kind of newsvenders we have been describing —
though by no means so topping a character as the publisher — is the London
agent, who deals with and supplies country news-agents. Men of this class ge-
nerally take large supplies of papers direct from their publishing-offices. One
|we know whose papers cost him a 1000/. a-week. Ten or twelve of this class send
their papers by railway-trains. The morning papers sent by the Great Western
Railway must be at Paddington by six a.m.; they reach Bristol by eleven a.m.
jThose for the north of England are sent by the Birmingham train, which leaves
Euston Square at six a.m. The Southampton and Gosport train starts from
348 LONDON.
Nine Elms at seven a.m. By this route the papers reach Gosport about half-
past ten A.M. : a steamer is waiting for the arrival of the train, and with its assist
ance the London morning papers are delivered in the Isle of Wight by half-pasi!
eleven a.m. The inhabitants of that island are reading their ^ Times/ while the!
London publication of the paper has scarcely finished. An agent who supplies!
the early papers to Gosport and the Isle of Wight, informs us that his Gosport
customers are often supplied before his town customers. The publisher of the
* Times' gives off the papers that are to be sent by railway first, and the agents
who receive them are not allowed to supply their town customers with these first
oozings of the press.
Little did honest Nathaniel Butter, when in 1622 he began to publish 'Cer-
tain Newes of the present Week,' contemplate the extent to which the trade he!
was inventing was to grow. In the course of little more than two centuries the!
small weekly newspaper has expanded into 139 daily, weekly, &c. newspapers
The activity set in motion to keep up these papers may be partly inferred from
what has been stated above. So many news-collectors incessantly perambulating
the streets; peeping into the senate and courts of justice; into the theatres
and other places of public amusement ; or posting night and day to and
from public dinners, agricultural and political meetings in all the provinces of
the empire. So many honest spies residing in the capitals both of Christendom
and Islam, gathering and transmitting to the London newspapers every rumour
of court intrigue — so many theatrical and artistical critics — so many writers of
essays, political, moral, (and immoral,) humorous, and instructive — all for the
edification of the patrons of the London newspaper press. So many editors devis-
ing means of rendering their paper more attractive, collecting matter from all
ends of the earth — so many expresses to convey information to the newspapers,
or the newspapers to their readers — so many reporters listening (what a
penance !) to the lengthy speeches of modern orators, and translating them into
grammar and English idiom, in order that they may not discredit the columns of
the newspaper — so many newsvenders, with their bags, fetching, and folding, and I
despatching, by foot-messengers, by post, and by railway-trains. It is a brave
bustling life, and one in which there is no stint or stay. No sooner do the night-
owls, whose business it is to "compose" the morning papers, quit work^ than their
brother typos^ who work by day, are setting to work upon the evening papers. The
last copy of the Sunday paper is scarcely *'Avorked off" when the compositors on
the Monday morning journals are beginning to bestir themselves. Sunday and
Saturday are alike days of sale with the newsvender. The half-opened shop-
window, the wall beplastered with placards announcing the contents of the .
Sunday newspapers, show that the newsman is at his receipt of customs : and at
the omnibus-stands and the steam-boat piers the volunteer venders of the news-
papers attend to supply the country-going parties with something to read should
the time hang heavy on their hands. These last are the lingering remnants
(sadly tamed down) of the vociferous itinerants whose vera effigies adorns the tail
of this sketch, as the title of one of our earlier newspapers does its head.
The printers of newspapers are much like other printers, but both the authors
of newspapers (editors, writers of "leaders" and reviews, reporters, penny-a-
liners, &c.), and the newsvenders are classes with marked^distinctive characters.
LONDON NEWSPAPERS. 349
rhe latter have been described above, but their light-foot Mercuries (their
rrand-boys) must not be passed unnoticed. We have an affection for the little
reature, who, be it storm or sunshine, rain or snow, duly brings our newspaper
it breakfast-time. It would be a hard heart indeed that could grudge him his
IJhristmas-box annually petitioned for in verse from the Catnach mint. Charles
Lamb has celebrated an annual dinner given in days of old to the chimney-
iweeps. Had he lived till this time he might have recorded — as he only could —
he amiual dinner of the newsvenders' boys. But as such blazon may not be, let
IS take the account of their last festival, evidently from the pen of some preco-
■ious imp of the tribe. We sorely suspect our own juvenile, whom we have more
han once caught, on returning from an early walk through the green-lanes in
)ur neighbourhood, taking a furtive glance at the columns of our newspaper
otally regardless of the plight we should have been in had the tea and toast been
eady before it arrived.
'' The newsvenders' servants' anniversary dinner, which is given by the pro-
)rietors of the London papers to the newsvenders and their servants, took place
yesterday at Highbury Barn Tavern, and was very numerously attended by the
;lass for whom it was more particularly intended, and their wives. The dinner,
)r rather series of dinners — for there were two, not to mention a tolerably solid
upper at eight o'clock, for those whose engagements prevented their earlier
ittendance, — was plain and substantial, and was duly honoured by the guests,
vhose style of dealing with the viands set before them would seem to prove that
,he calling of a newsman is by no means a hindrance to the possession of a remark-
ably sound and vigorous appetite. Indeed we have seldom seen more able per-
brmers than the lads who partook of the first dinner at one o'clock ; meat-pies,
Dudding, and drink vanished with inconceivable celerity, and the cry was still for
nore. At last the young folks were satisfied, and their elder brethren and their
'amilies then partook of the second dinner at three o'clock, which being finished,
he chairman rose and proposed successively the 'Queen,' 'Prince Albert,' and
ihe 'Proprietors of the London Newspapers,' all which toasts were drunk with
;he most vociferous applause. After rising from the table the company pro-
ceeded to amuse themselves in the grounds till nine o'clock, when the ball, which
isually succeeds these festivities, being opened under the able direction of that
ikilful hut eccentric master of the ceremonies, dancing-master Wilson, the ladies
md gentlemen present commenced dancing, which they kept up with great spirit
ong after we were compelled to depart. The festivities of the day were well con-
iucted by Mr. Wylde, the chairman, assisted by the stewards, and seemed to give
general satisfaction ; and the company, though abundantly uproarious, appeared
po enjoy themselves greatly after their own way. To the credit of the party it
jhould be observed, that out of nearly five hundred individuals, young and old,
who were present, we did not see one tipsy man or woman."
It is a more delicate matter dealing with the character and position of the
literary labourers in the newspaper vineyard. They wield goose-quills too,
md are noways slow to betake themselves to their tools, either in attack or
lefence. A great deal of melancholy cant has of late been vented about the
social estimation of journalists as below their deserts. The intellectual character
)f British journalists, too, it has been said by those who ought to know better, is
350 LONDON.
inferior to the French. Neither assertion is true.' The cry about the degraded
status of journalists has been got up by a knot of kid-glove democrats, who wish
to be pets of the saloons, as some French journalists are. The prestige whicl
attaches to the literary character in France, and to writers in journals along with
the rest, cannot be expected here. In England a man takes his place in pubUc
esteem, not on the strength of his profession, but of his personal character — and
may this long be the case. No one need expect to find here a company awed
into respect by the announcement that he is Mr. — , editor of the
but neither need he fear, if his conduct is what it ought to be, that the announce-
ment will make him less regarded. Journalists may command, and do, and have
commanded, as much respect in this country as members of any other profession
As to the alleged superiority of the French newspaper press, it is, in respect oi
news, both as concerns quantity and quality, decidedly inferior to the English;
and, without any wish to undervalue the high talents dedicated to journalism in
France, there have been, and are, talents quite as high embarked in the pro-
fession in London. That the character of mercantile speculation preponderates
in our newspapers is, in so far as politics are concerned, rather an advantage
than the contrary. The fears of proprietors put a check upon such crude and
rash speculations as distinguished the French ' Globe ' in the days of its St
Simonianism. There may be less of the parade of scientific inquiry in English
journals, but there is more of practical statesmanship. The men who are trained
to political controversy in association with the party-leaders of their day, and
the most active members of the great mercantile interests, are trained in a bettei
school than sentimental and imaginative belle-lettrists, like Lamartine and De
Tocqueville.
Within our limits it would be impossible to sketch the characters of 139 news
papers, and a bare list of their names would be tedious. All that can be done is
to group them in classes, indicating the peculiarities of each class by a few of the
more prominent individuals belonging to it. The daily papers are a class bj?
themselves. They are in the news department less narrators of events than
mirrors of the transactions themselves. The full, almost verbatim, reports ol
speechifying meetings, the long collections of protocols and other official docu
ments, are given with a conscientious fidelity that renders these papers sometimes
almost as tiresome as the facts they chronicle. There was a time when the
newspapers were not allowed to report the proceedings of Parliament, and then
they must have been deficient in a very interesting feature. But the fidelity
with which the debates in Parliament are now reported has become wearisome.
The public has been surfeited with Parliamentary eloquence. To wade through
these interminable columns, a man would require to have no other avocation.
So strongly is this felt, that all the daily papers are now in the habit of giving,
along with their full Parliamentary report (which is intended probably as a
matter of record or a piece justificatif), an abstract of it in the editorial column —
and few readers, we suspect, venture upon any more. Each of the leading daily
papers has a strongly-marked spirit of individuality, impressed upon it in some
instances by the first projector, and retained through many changes of proprietor
ship and editorship. ' The Times ' is right John Bull ; always vigorous and vehe-
ment, sometimes to a degree ludicrously disproportioned to the subject of dis
LONDON NEWSPAPERS. 351
ussion. Shrewd and energetic, it is home in the last degree when any question
omes to be discussed in which the insular prejudices of England come into play.
he ' Standard ' is marked by clear logic, strong prepossessions, and a high
entlemanly tone. It is the paper of a ripe scholar, and withal somewhat of a
ecluse. The ^ Globe ' is characterized by a diplomatic retenue and the natural easy
one of a man of the world. This it inherits from a former editor : the present
Titers have caught up his mantle, but a flippancy at times breaks out which
ontrasts disagreeably with the usual tone of the paper. The * Post ' is apt to be
coked upon as a mere fashionable paper : this is a mistake — there is much
igorous writing and unconventional thought, both in the literary and political
epartments. The ' Chronicle ' and ' Herald ' are undergoing a transmutation,
0 that we rather conjecture what they are to be than know what they are : the
atter is improving in vigour and variety.
The London weekly papers are literary, or political, or sporting, or fashion-
ble, or agricultural, or commercial^ or blackguard. To these may be added
jlass papers.
There are only two exclusively literary papers : the ' Athenaeum ' and the
Literary Gazette.' The leading political weekly papers are the ' Spectator,'
Examiner,' ' John Bull,' ' Weekly Dispatch,' and 'Weekly Chronicle.' The
irculation of these papers, according to the latest stamp returns, is — of the
Spectator, 3850; of the '^Examiner,' 6312; of the ' John Bull,' 3750; of the
Weekly Dispatch,' 66,666; and of the 'Weekly Chronicle,' 17,083. The
Weekly Chronicle' and the ' Examiner' represent the opinions of two sections
)f the middle-class liberals ; the ' Dispatch' is affected by the hard-headed arti-
}ans ; the ' John Bull' is still nominally the representative of the class which yet
ylories in the designation of Tory, though its real rank is rendered questionable
ay the rising conservative journal the ' Britannia.' ' Bell's Life in London' is
he only exclusively sporting paper. It is a goodly mass of small type, recording
ill feats in racing, hunting, boating, coursing, cricketing, and, in short, every Ing
hat flourishes in the fields of merry England. The ^ Sunday Times,' however,
supplies its readers with a fair proportion of sporting intelligence. The ' Era,' a
)aper of only a few years' standing, is looked up to by some sporting characters as
fair record of the events of the turf. The circulation of ' Bell's Life' is 18,750 ;
)f the 'Sunday Times,' 21,666; of the ' Era,' 4958. The so-called fashionable
apers are the ' Court Journal' (1491), and ' Court Gazette ' (666) : they are
}atronised by the same class that patronised the fashionable novels in their day.
oremost among the agricultural papers stands one of the oldest London papers,
;he 'Old Bell's Messenger.' This journal has for forty years been considered,
oar excellence, Xhe farmers' journal : 17,333 copies circulate almost exclusively
imong the farmers. The ' Mark Lane Express' is rather the journal of the
;orn-factors than of the agriculturists : 4500 are circulated weekly among the
Frequenters of corn-markets. The commercial journals are the ' Journal of Com-
nerce,' and the ' Mercantile Journal' (both excellent papers in their way), with a
whole host of ' Prices Current,' ' Trade Lists,' ' Circulars,' &c. &c. Almost every
slass and profession have now their special journals : soldiers and sailors have their
Military and Naval Gazette,' and ' United Service Gazette ;' the gardeners have
1 * Gazette' and a ' Chronicle ;' the lawyers have their 'Jurist;' and the justices
352
LONDON.
of the peace a paper whick takes their name; speculators in steam and railways
have the ' Kailway Times;' the colonial interest has its 'Colonial Gazette;'
and some colonies (as for example New Zealand) have journals of their own pub-
lished in London. Every sect in religion almost has its newspaper: — the evan-
gelical churchmen have their ' Record ; ' the high-churchmen their ' Church
Intelligencer;' the ruling body of the Dissenters their ' Patriot ;' and their oppo-
sition the ' Nonconformist:' one section of the Wesleyans patronise the * Watch-
man ;' another the ' Wesleyan Chronicle ;' and our Roman Catholic brethren have
their ' Tablet.' Perhaps the blackguard papers above alluded to maybe named
as class papers, and the best way to put a stop to them may be to mark down as
blackguards all their supporters. The 'Illustrated Newspapers' are a recent in-
vention. The novelty of the speculation insured them a large circulation at first,
and they still in part retain it; though some old experienced traders shake their
heads, and '' much question whether one illustrated paper will exist three years
longer.''
>
['* Glorious News!" — Horn Bojs.]
[Barry's Pictiues: Grecian Hiirvcst Home.]
CXXIIL— THE SOCIETY OF ARTS, &c. IN THE ADELPHI.
'his once-flourislimg and influential Society has been so long reposing beneath
|he shadow of its laurels, that now, when it arouses itself to renewed vigour and
Jtion, it must not be surprised to find its very existence, much more its services,
forgotten, and that its greeting with the public generally will be at first little
flse than a repetition of the remark and question : '' The Society of Arts ! — what
lociety is that?" There may be something mortifying in this, but it cannot
)e helped, that is one consolation ; another may be found in the respectable
jiiitiquity of the custom of forgetting what is no longer of service to us. *' There's
ibpe," says Hamlet, in a passage applying with still greater force to societies
jhan to individuals, '' a great man's memory may outlive his life half a year :
)ut, by 'r lady, he must build churches then." Now, if there had been any alter-
lative but the building of churches, this Society must have been remembered for
it least its half year of lifelessness or inaction, so many, so various, and so im-
)6rtant are the good things it has done for the development and promotion of
[he arts, manufactures, and commerce of England. To this Society some of our
VOL. V. 2 A
354 LONDON.
best artists have owed the most priceless of all services that can be rendered to
men of genius at the outset of their career, appreciation on the part of an en-
lightened few, introduction under favourable circumstances to the many. It was
established in 1754, chiefly through the public spirit of a drawing-master, Mr.
William Shipley ; and after tossing about from coffee-house to coffee-house, from
private apartments to private apartments, finally and most satisfactorily settled
itself in 1774 in its own premises, in the Adelphi. It was Avhile the members
were yet in their rooms in the Strand, that Bacon, in 1758, ventured to send a
small figure of Peace, and was delighted with a reward of ten guineas. Subse-
quent attempts by the same artist were so successful, that he gained the highest
premium on nine different occasions. His three beautiful works now at the Adel-
phi, Mars, Venus, and Narcissus, all originals, all the size of life, and all presented
by him, show how deeply he felt his obligations to the Society. Again, in
1 761,Nollekens received ten guineas for the alto-relievo of ' Jephthah's Vow,* which
now hangs up in the antechamber to the great room of the Society ; and two
years later, fifty guineas, as a mark of its approbation of a still more important
piece of sculpture. The example of these sculptors was followed soon after by
Flaxman, who, sending in 1768 one of his earliest attempts, received a grant of
ten guineas; for another work, exhibited in 1771, he obtained the Society's gold
medal. Next came Lawrence, who, at the early age of thirteen, received the re
ward of a silver palette, gilt, with the addition of five guineas in money, for his
drawing in crayons of the Transfiguration; the painter, in the height of his sub-
sequent prosperity, was accustomed to speak of the impulse thus given to his
love of the art. Other names might be added to the list, which could also be
extended with interest to painters of the present day ; as, for instance, Sir William
Ross received the Society's silver palette in 1807, at the age of twelve, for a draw-
ing of the death of Wat Tyler; Mr. Edwin Landseer received a similar mark of
approbation in 1810 for an etching; and Mr. Wyon was adjudged the gold medal
in 1818, for a medal die. But to artists there is a feature of still greater interest i
in the Society's history : it was in its rooms that the first public exhibition of
paintings in England took place in 1760, and which was continued with great suc-
cess for some years. If we turn to manufactures and commerce, and the variety of
incidentals included in those terms, we find even more important and solid services
rendered, as a whole, though the details furnish fewer points of interest or com-.
ment. The large expenditure of the Society in the reward of merit, which ex-
penditure, for about ninety years, has considerably exceeded 100,000/., is alone a
striking fact, connected as it has been with so little personal interest on the part
of the distributors, whose labours have been throughout labours of love. In
glancing over the subjects that have engaged their attention with the happiest
results, we may mention the following. To the growth of forest trees the Society
gave a great impulse among the higher classes, almost immediately after its
formation, and accordingly we find among the recipients of its gold and silver
medals the Dukes of Bedford and Beaufort, the Earls of Winterton, Upper Ossory,
and Mansfield, and a Bishop of LlandatF. A similar movement took place, and
through the same agency, in agriculture, with the eff*ect of bringing to bear on
that most important of all sciences, and almost for the first time, a considerable
amount of intellect and education, and enterprising activity, which formed most
THE SOCIETY OF ARTS, &c. IN THE ADELPHI.
355
refreshing contrasts to the dulness, ignorance, and unwillingness to move one inch
out of the even tenor of their way, that too generally characterised the farmers of
England at the time. Mr. Curwen of Windermere, who received several medals
for agricultural improvements, stated at one of the public meetings that but for
the Society he should never have been a farmer ; and his case was no doubt
but one of a large number. Implements began rapidly to improve ; madder,
hemp, foreign grasses, and different sorts of cattle, were added to our home pro-
ductions ; experiments on drill husbandry were brought into notice ; and thus did
the Society lead the way to that assiduous study of all the processes of ao-ricul-
ture— however apparently well known — that promises yet to revolutionise the
entire science. Then in chemistry, we had for the first time manufactured at
home such vessels as the best kinds of crucibles, melting-pots for tin ores, and
earthen retorts, such materials as smalt and verdigris ; whilst the prosperity of
the country was even more directly advanced by the introduction of new or im-
proved modes of tinning copper and brass vessels, dyeing woollen cloth, linen,
cotton, silk, and leather, making buff leather, transparent varnishes, and enamels,
tanning with oak saw-dust, &c. Sec. In manufactures and mechanics generall}^
the Society taught us, or at least aided those who did so, the manufacture of
Turkey carpets, tapestry weaving, weaving to imitate the Marseilles and India
quilting; also how to improve our spinning and lace-making, our paper and our
catgut for musical instruments, our straw bonnets, and artificial flowers. The
colonies shared in its extensive beneficence : potash and pearlash were produced
by the Society's agency in North America; and just before the war of independ-
ence which separated the States from England broke out^ it was busily engaged
in introducing the cultivation of the vine, the growth of silkworms, and the manu-
facture of indigo and vegetable oils. But the rewards, some twenty in number,
given within the last forty years or so, to poor Bethnal Green and Spitalfields'
weavers, for useful inventions in their calling, illustrates perhaps even better
than any of the foregoing notices that feature of the Society which so honourably
distinguishes it from all others in the present day, its readiness to receive,
examine, and reward every kind of useful invention that may be brought forward
by those who have neither friends nor money to aid them in making their inven-
tions known. To all such persons the Adelphi is ever open ; and the general
knowledge of this fact throughout Britain might yet be attended with more im-
portant results than any noted in the Society's previous history. So careful has
the latter been to do full justice to whatever might be offered it by parties thus
situated, that, till recently, patented inventions were not included within its scope ;
and now that an alteration has taken place, and that the Society very properly is
ready to do its best to disseminate information as to all useful discoveries, whether
patents or not, it still reserves its rewards for those who are too poor to take out
a patent, or too liberal.
A brief notice of the rewards granted during the present year, and of some of
the principal communications read to the Society, will, in connexion with the fore-
going pages, give a tolerably clear view of the Society's general proceedings.
In the mechanical and other practical arts, rewards have been given for an im-
proved method of hanging window-sashes, an improved life-buoy, an improved
tube for weaving wide velvet, an improved loom for weaving horse-hair ; also for
2 A 2
356 LONDON.
a plan of a self-acting feeding-apparatus for high-pressure boilers, a plan of a
floating breakwater, and a machine for hot-pressing lace goods, with some others.
The breakwater is the invention of a foreigner, Major Parlby, Paris; and in
looking at the names and addresses of the other parties, we find such })laces
as Spitalfields, Bethnal Green, Mile End, and Russell Court, Drury Lane,
mentioned ; significant evidences of the admirable efiect of the Society's operations
in the development of unfriended talent. The eight subjects rewarded, in
connexion with the fine arts, consist of a drawing of the Townley Hercules, a
design for a school-house, designs for architectural ornaments, design for the best
elevation of a Gothic church, a painting in oil of animals from life, different por-
traits in oil, and a drawing of the Apollo. The rewards are medals of gold
and silver, with occasionally money payments in lieu of or in addition. One
feature of these rewards of merit has yet to be mentioned— the prizes are pub-
licly presented to the recipients in the great room at the Adelphi, by the Presi-
dent, who is now no less a personage than Her Majesty's consort, Prince Albert.
Among the communications read during the present session, on the ordinary weekly
evenings of meeting (Wednesdays), may be mentioned the type-setting machine oi
Messrs. Young and Delcambre — the lithotint process, explained by Mr. Rotch, one
of the Society's vice-presidents — the Secretary's communication on Arithmography,
or system of universal languages by means of numbers — Mr. Prosser's invention of
making bricks, tiles, and tesserae, by compression — and Mr. Braithwaite's process
of stamping wood with hot irons, to produce imitations of the best style of carving.
All this multifarious business is managed by means of nine committees, some of
which meet weekly ; one having for its charge the subject of Accounts, a second
Agriculture, a third Chemistry, a fourth Colonies and Trade, and so on for
Correspondence and Papers, Manufactures, Mechanics, Miscellaneous matter.s,
and, lastly. Fine Arts. Members generally may attend the meetings of com-
mittees, with the exception of that of Miscellaneous matters, which consists of the
Chairmen of the other committees and six members chosen from the body at
large. The number of members is now about 700, no less than 125 having been
added in the present year, since the revival we have referred to. The terms of
membership are a single payment of twenty guineas or annual payments of two,
which include the right of borrowing books from the valuable scientific library.
According to the title of the Society it is established '' for the encouragement
of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce;" tolerably comprehensive words cer-
tainly, but evidently not too much so. Indeed, looking at the variety of subjects
we have already had occasion to mention, and then stepping into the model-room
of the Society at the Adelphi, one might be tempted to ask whether there are
any limits to its field of exertion ; whether, in short, it is not a society for the
encouragement of everything. What a glorious confusion there is amidst all
this orderly array of glass-cases^ that extend horizontally in rows across the room,
or that perpendicularly line the walls. Hands for the one-handed, to give them
again two, and other instruments for those who have lost both — cloths of all sorts
of materials from all sorts of countries — medals of Charles the First's reign and
the last new stove of Victoria's — fire-escape ladders to run down from windows,
and scaffolds, rising telescope -fashion out of a box, to mount up to roofs (a most
ingenious machine, and worthy the admiration which we understand his Royal
THE SOCIETY OF ARTS, &c. IN THE ADELPHI.
357
Liiiii
[Model-room of the Society.]
Highness the President recently expressed in regard to it) — bee-hives, and
instruments to slice turnips — ploughs, and instruments to restrain vicious bulls —
pans to preserve butter in hot localities, and safety-lamps to preserve men in
dangerous ones — models of massive cranes, and of little tips for umbrellas — life-
buoys, and maroon-locks to give notice of thieves in gardens — diving-bells and
cxpanding-keys — safe coaches and traps — clocks, and improved tail-pieces for
violoncellos — instruments to draw spirits, and instruments to draw teeth — samples
of tea, sugar, cinnamon, and nutmegs, in different stages of growth — models
of Tuscan pavements — beds for invalids — methods to teach the blind how to write
— but the list is interminable, and were we to continue it for half-a-dozen pages
further, Ave should be in no appreciable degree nearer the end. It is but justice
to another admirable point of the Society's policy to mention here, that however
miscellaneous many of the subjects may be which are brought annually before
it, in accordance with the particular pursuit or skill of individuals, the Society
itself, at the same time, pursues a methodical course of its own : thus while it
rewards by " bounties" v/hatever inventions or works of more than ordinary skill
and value are casually submitted to it, its chief rewards, or '' premiums," are be-
stowed on those who have succeeded in a competition, or in a mode, the nature of
which has been previously pointed out by the Society. Its guide in selecting sub-
jects for premiums may be, perhaps, best expressed in the phrase, ' What do we
most want ?' a question that we may presume to find practically answered in the
list now before us, of subjects for which rewards will be given in the course of the
next two sessions. These are classed under the heads Agriculture, Fine Arts,
Chemistry and Mineralogy, Colonies and Trade, Manufactures, Mechanics, and
include a host of matters of the deepest interest, in connexion with the national
prosperity. We find among them premiums offered for cheaper or superior
358 LONDON.
modes of gaining lands from the sea, cultivating waste lands, draining, forming
manure, making extensive plantations, particularly on land unfit for other pur-
poses ; also for the introduction of new and improved species and varieties of
forest or fruity or ornamental trees, shrubs, and other plants ; — in some instances of
known dioecious plants, of which we possess but one sex, specified by name ; as in
the beautiful evergreen so common in our gardens, the aucuba japonica, or gold
plant, the female of which we alone possess, and for the male a gold medal is
consequently offered. Then, again, premiums are offered for new or improved
methods of harvesting corn or making hay in wet seasons — for importing and
rearing in this country any improved breed of cattle, sheep, or other domestic
animals (the Cashmere-shawl goat forms a special item) — for improvement in the
heating of horticultural buildings, and in the formation of better and cheaper
agricultural machines : these all occur under the head Agriculture. Beneath
that of Chemistry and Mineralogy^ communications are desired on the subjects of
generating steam at a higher power, without increasing the danger or the expense
— on preventing smoke — on purer glass for optical purposes — on the discovery
in Britain, or in a British colony, of a stone for lithography, to equal the best
German stones — of better modes of lighting houses and streets. In connexion
with Colonies and Trade, the improvements, discoveries, or introductions sought
are — the growth of flax in British India, and of silk and tea in any British
colony — a substitute for hemp — also accounts of the Chinese modes of manu-
facturing their Indian paper so much used by our printsellers, their porcelain,
and of their method of growing cocoa. Under the head Mechanics, the atten-
tion of candidates is directed generally to improvement in those important
objects on which the interests of Great Britain essentially depend, namely — the
shipping, steam-engines, steam-boats and carriages, roads, bridges, tunnels,
canals, docks, and harbours ; the construction of rail-roads, and modes of pro-
pelling rail-road carriages; also to everything connected with these subjects, as
machinery, tools, and diminution of manual labour ; to the improvement of opti-
cal, mathematical, astronomical and especially of nautical instruments, in respect
to accuracy or facility of use ; to the improvement of surgical instruments and
apparatus; and, we are glad to see, to the diminution of danger attending many
of the ordinary avocations of men through steam-boilers, gunpowder-mills, public
conveyances, mines, and quarries. Lastly, the Society announce, under the head
of Fine Arts, that, for the future, the rewards will be confined to original works
of art; including historical subjects, portraits, landscapes, fruit, flowers and still
life ; enamels and miniatures ; architectural designs ; drawings of machinery ; en-
gravings on steel, copper and wood ; medal dies, gems and cameos, drawings in
lithography, lithotint, &c. ; models in wax and clay ; carvings in wood, ivory,
marble, or other suitable material ; anatomical, botanical, and other scientific
drawings, and improvements in the Daguerrotype and Solar type processes.
Such are but a few of the subjects to which the Society directs attention at the
present time, and in connexion with which it offers its numerous rewards. We
may conclude this part of our paper by throwing out a suggestion which seems
to us not unworthy of notice. Of all the communicants, or those who might
become so under favourable circumstances, of the Society, it is evident a very
large portion must be persons whose situation will not admit of the expenditure
THE SOCIETY OF ARTS, &c. IN THE ADELPHI.
359
of any considerable amount of time, much less of money, unless with the expecta-
tion of a decidedly beneficial pecuniary return ; yet this the Society does not give :
we think it might. If, instead of offering small premiums in connexion with so
many different subjects, it would yearly select a few of the most important, and
promote them by large ones, the result, we think, would be a more decided suc-
cess; the Society, it seems to us, would become a still more valuable agent for the
promotion of all the great objects it has at heart. We now turn to an event in
the history of the Society which has already done much to popularise it in years
past^ which may yet do much more, when the magnificent works which that event
placed in their possession shall be as generally known and appreciated as they
deserve.
Some sixty years ago, there might have been seen daily passing in a direction
between Oxford Street and the Adelphi, for years together, and through all
kinds of weather, one Avhose appearance told, to even the most casual observer,
he looked upon a remarkable man. Referring to himself, in one of his letters to
a friend, he had once said,'' though the body and the soul of a picture will discover
themselves on the slightest glance, yet you know it could not^ be the same with
such a pock-fretted, hard-featured little fellow as I am also ;" but neither these
personal characteristics, nor the mean garb in which he usually appeared, could
conceal the earnestness stamped upon his grave, saturnine countenance, or the
air of entire absorption in some mental pursuit, having little in common with the
bustle of the every-day business of the world around him. He was a man to
make or to keep few friends, and to shun all acquaintances ; it was not often
therefore that, in these passages to and fro, he had any companion ; but the
event was noticeable when he had, from the striking change in his demeanour.
^1
He became full of animation, and of a kind of sparkling cheerfulness ; his con-
versation was at once frank, weighty, and elevating, and even the oaths, with
which he made somewhat free, could not spoil the delight of the most fastidious
censor of words, whilst borne along on the full and free current of the painter's
thoughts. No one but himself at such times would have called his countenance
" hard-featured ;" its smile was inexpressibly sweet, its look of scorn or ano-er,
when roused, such as few men could have met unmoved. But Avhat was the
360 LONDON.
employment that thus determmed for so long a period his daily movements?
The answer will require a brief review of his past career. Whilst a young
student at Eome, Barry — for it was he to whom we refer — had been often
annoyed by the absurd taunts of foreigners as to the ungenial character
of the British soil for the growth of Art^ often seduced into answering
them in such a manner as suited rather his fiery temper and indomitable
will, than the cause which he so impatiently espoused. But a better result
was his own quiet determination, to devote his life to the disproof of the
theory. He began admirably, by a strict analysis of his own powers, and by
inquiring how they were best to be developed. Here is the result : '' If I should
chance to have genius, or anything else," he observes, in a letter to Dr. Sleigh,
^' it is so much the better ; but my hopes are grounded upon an unwearied,
intense application, of which I am not sparing. At present I have little to show
that I value ; my work is all under ground, digging and laying foundations,
which, with God's assistance, I may hereafter find the use of I every day centre
more and more upon the art ; I give myself totally to it : and, except honour
and conscience, am determined to renounce every thing else." But the writer was
without a shilling in the world to call his own ; and although he had friends, the
best of friends, as they were, one of them at least, Burke, the best of men, he had
already received from them the entire means of subsistence while he had been study-
ing so long at Rome, and was determined therefore to be no longer a burden to
them or to others ; but how should he, renouncing all the ordinary blandishments
of a young painter's career, the '' face-painting" and other methods by which
genius condescends to become fashionable, or, in other words, to lay down its im-
mortality for the pleasure of being acknowledged immortal, how was he to subsist?
It was whilst this question remained, we may suppose, not decisively answered,
that the painter thus mournfully wrote to a friend : — ' O, I could be happy, on
my going home, to find some corner where I could sit down in the middle of
my studies, books, and casts after the antique, to paint this work and others,
where I might have models of nature when necessary, bread and soup, and a
coat to cover me ! I should care ilot what became of my work when it was done ;
but 1 reflect with horror upon such a fellow as I am, and with such a kind of
art in London, with house-rent to pay, duns to follow me, and employers to look
for. Had I studied art in a manner more accommodated to the nation, there would
be no dread of this." But from this state of despondency and dissatisfaction he
was soon to rise triumphant. Again and again he asked himself how he was to
subsist while the great things he meditated should be accomplished, and the
answer came : the conclusion was anything but attractive or cheering, but he
saw it was the conclusion : no cross, no crown ; and accepted it ungrudgingly. It
was not long before he could say, *^I have taken great pains to fashion myself to
this kind of Quixotism : to this end I have contracted and simplified my cravings
and wants, and brought them into a very narrow compass." There are few, we
think, of those who may have smiled with pity or contempt at the painter's mean
garb, who would not have honoured it while they reverenced him, had they known
this. The first apparent opportunity of achieving the object indicated, was in
connexion with the proposed decoration of St. Paul's, of which we have already
given an account. The very idea was enough to set Barry's soul on fire. It
THE SOCIETY OF ARTS, &c. IN THE ADELPHI. 361
iopened a field of exertion wider in its range, more magnificent in its nature, than
[in his cooler moments he could have expected would ever have been afforded
[him; though, from the following passage of one of his letters, it should seem that
he had not only long meditated upon the scheme, but had been — in opposition
jto the general notion, which accords the merit to Reynolds — the first to propose
|it to the Academy. — '' The dean and chapter have agreed to leave the orna-
jmenting of St. Paul's to the Academy, and it now rests with us to give permis-
'sion to such painters as we shall think qualified to execute historical pictures of
a certain size, I believe from fifteen to twenty feet high. We also intend to
I set up a monument there — Pope is mentioned — the sculptor is to be paidbysub-
|scription, and a benefit from the play-house. I proposed this matter to the
Academy about a year since, a little after my being admitted an associate, and I
had long set my heart upon it, as the only means for establishing a solid, manly
taste for real art, in place of our contemptible passion for the daubing of incon-
sequential things, portraits of dogs, landscapes, &c. — things which the mind,
which is the soul of art, having no concern in, have hitherto served to disgrace us
over all Europe."* The enthusiasm of the Academy seems to have been all ex-
pended in its offer respecting St. Paul's ; for, on the refusal of the Bishop of
London, they allowed the matter to drop ; and when the Society which forms the
subject of this paper very wisely stepped forward and offered its room for
decoration, the Academy declined. No wonder that Barry's dislike of the
Academy grew more and more decided, member of it though he was ; or
that he could no longer allow his life to glide away without the accomplish-
ment of any of its great objects : it was soon rumoured through the academic
circle, with such comments as ill-nature, jealousy, and personal dislike would
prompt, that Barry himself, single-handed, had offered to undertake the great
work they had refused, and that the Society had accepted his offer. Barry, at the
time of his offer, is said to have had just sixteen shillings in his possession ; but
he says, referring to his writings, '' I thought myself bound, in duty to the coun-
try, to art, and to my own character, to try whether my abilities would enable
me to exhibit the proof as well as the argument.'* And so, merely stipulating
for the exercise of his own independent judgment, free admission at all times,
and that the necessary models should be furnished at the Society's expense, he
began his undertaking. Such was the man, such the nature of the avocations
that drew him daily, at the period we have mentioned, towards the Adelphi.
Let us now ^scend the stairs to the first floor, passing through the little ante-
room where the alto-relievos of Bacon and NoUekens are ipounted high upon
the walls, and beneath the portrait of the founder of the Society, which appro-
priately hangs over the door of the great room, where the painter's works are to
be found. The first glance shows us in one way the magnitude of the under-
taking ; the upper portion of the walls of the whole of the noble room, or hall, as
it should rather be called, is covered by the six paintings of which the series con-
sists ; as we step from one to another, we perceive that these large spaces have been
wrought upon in a large spirit, and a still closer examination opens to our view
pictures of surpassing beauty and grandeur, and scarcely less remarkable as a
* Letter to the Duke of Richmond,
:62
LONDON.
whole for the successful manner in which they have been executed, than for the
daring originality of their conceiDtion.
His leading object, it seems, was to convey the idea, - That the attainment of
happmess, mdividual as well as public, depends on the development, proper cul
tivation, and perfection of the human faculties, physical and moral, which are so
well calculated to lead human nature to its true rank, and the glorious desicrna
tion assigned for it by Providence." A truth of the mightiest import, and'' for
all time, and, of course, one that a painter requires every fair indulgence in the
attempt to illustrate by the mere representation of half a dozen 'scenes. In the
first of these, the principle of civilization is at once forcibly and poetically em-
bodied m the picture of Orpheus, in the combined characters of legislator, priest
poet, philosopher, and musician, addressing a wild and uncultivated people, in a
.^-^;^ii^'
[Barry's Pictures : Orpheus civilizing the inhabitants of Thrace.]
country but too much in harmony with themselves. As he pours forth his songs
of instruction, accompanied by the music of his lyre,— types of the instruments by
and through which he works, the understanding, and the feelings,—the rapt savage
fresh from the chace, with his female partner, to whom he has delegated the task
ot carrying the dead fawn, leaning upon his shoulders, the old man looking up
with the scepticism natural to age overborne by wonder and admiration, and him
THE SOCIETY OP ARTS, &c. IN THE ADELPHI. 363
/ho sits by his side, lost in surprise, at the new views opening upon him of what
lay be done by so small and as yet comparatively untried an instrument as the
and, all betoken the jjotency of the '' minister and interpreter of the gods/' as
lorace calls him. Comments have been made on the delicacy of the female
bove mentioned, as inconsistent with the painter's own view of showing " that
he value and estimation of women increase according to the growth and cultiva-
ion of society, and that, amongst savage nations, they are in a condition little
jettcr than the beasts of burden." Barry seems to have perceived this himself;
ur in his etchings of the picture in the great work published by him, which lies
»n the table, the objection seems to be completely obviated. He has there rc-
iioved the censer, the fumes of which, winding upwards, veil the undressed limbs
nthe picture, and made it prominent to the eye, and, at the same time, by other
.Iterations, removed the air of excessive delicacy, and made the figure as we now
ee it in our engraving. The second picture presents us with a lovely view of a
Grecian Harvest Home ;' the inhabitants are no longer such as Orpheus ad-
Iressed, but such as his teachings and time have made them, civilized, gentle, and
lappy, the cultivation of their fields and the tending of their flocks their chief
Lvocatiouj the dance and the song their chief enjoyment, the honour of success in
. wrestling match their highest ambition. The thoroughly Grecian air of this
)icture must enchant every one. Barry, as well as Wordsworth, felt that —
" in despite
Of the gross fictions, chanted in the streets
By wandering rbapsodists ; and in contempt
Of doubt and bold denials homely urged
Amid the wrangling schools — a spirit hung,
Beautiful region ! o'er thy woods and fields,"
md, like the poet, he has made us feel it too. This is the triumph of art. The
hird picture of the series, that facing you as you enter the room, is perhaps,
:aken altogether, as great a picture as ever was painted. We have advanced
Tom savage life and the earliest stage of civilization, to that where poets,
painters, sculptors, philosophers, have arisen to shed a new glory over the earth,
ind where the heroes have become more essentially because more ideally heroic.
Most happily has the painter chosen the one event that above all others could
best enable him to express this new position in the history of man, and the acknow-
ledgments due to the people to whom we owe so much : the Victors at Olympia is
the subject of the third picture ; the age of Pericles, the most brilliant in Grecian
history, the time. Beneath the seat of the judges are portraits reminding us of
the illustrious men who have helped to make Greece what she here appears,
iSolon, Lycurgus, and others ; and trophies'' telling of the grander events of her
history, — of Salamis, of Marathon, and of Thermopylae ; whilst in the crowds con-
i^regated about the victors, we have Pindar leading the chorus in the singing of
ione of his own odes ; behind him, in the chariot, is Hiero of Syracuse ; Pericles is
seen in another direction speaking to Cimon ; whilst Socrates, Anaxagoras,
Euripides listen, and Aristophanes scoffs. The chief group represents Diagoras
of Rhodes, who had in his youth been celebrated for his own victories in the
364
LONDON.
games^ and who is now borne on the shoulders of his sons, one of whom has heen|
this day the victor at the Cestus ; the multitude are filling the air with theiri
acclamations, and strewing flowers upon his head as the victorious father of vic-l
torious children ; whilst a friend on the left grasps his hand, and tells him in the!
well-known recorded words, ^' Now, Diagoras, die, for thou canst not be made al
god." Of the two other victors on the right, both foot racers, one has already
received the branch of palm, and is being crowned, while the scribe at the table
records his name, family, and country. If the reader will look in the extreme
corner of the picture on the left hand, he will see an interesting practical evidence
of Barry's own opinion of the work ; that low figure seated on the base of the
statue of Hercules represents the painter in the character of Timanthes. As to
the opinions of others, Canova's is a memorable case in point. When on his visit
here, he said he would have come purposely to England from Rome to see it,
without any other motive, had he known of the existence of such a picture.
[Barry's Pictures : The Victors at Ohmpia.]
Of the fourth and fifth pictures of the series little can be said in the way of
praise. The artist felt the necessity of showing a something still better than
THE SOCIETY OF ARTS, &c. IN THE ADELPHI. 365
jrecian civilization, as preparatory to the Elysium into which he proposed to lead
nen at last, and, of course, if that were any where to be found it was in the history of
;ommerce and the greatest of commercial countries, his own ; he felt also, no doubt,
hat in other respects the British nation had influenced and was still influencing
nost potently the progress of civilization ; but the pictures in which he has em-
bodied these views are failures, nor do we see how they could be otherwise. Gre-
cian history and civilization present a tolerably consistent whole, because the chief
letails were corisistent with the religion, morals, and manners, the theory and the
practice, of the Grecian people. Our history and civilization present but too many
3vidences of inconsistency ; we have ascended higher, but sunk lower ; have made
)ur religion, morals, and manners too often at war with each other, our theory a
Toquent satire on our practice. In the mean time we have the Thames, in
:he shape of a venerable figure, in a triumphal car, borne along by Drake,
Raleigh, Cdbot, and Cook, accompanied by Mercury as Commerce, with
Nereids carrying articles of manufacture and industry, atndrig whom Dr. Bur-
[ley is somewhat ludicrously introduced as the personified idea of Music. The
most pertinent criticism we have seen on this picture was the unintentional
Diie on the patt df a dowager, who, putting her fan before hfei- face, expressed
h^t regret to see '' good Dr. Burney with a parcel of naked girls dabbling ii^ a
horse-pond." The other picture referred to is the meeting of the members of the
Society of Arts for the annual distribution of the premiums, and who appear to
be debating how they may best forward the objects of the Society ; a work in
itself of considerable merit, and interesting in the locality, but too restricted in its
nature for the series. Opposite the Victors at Olympia, and over the door of
ntrance, is tlio last of these pictorial essays bii moral culture, the view of
Elysium, certainly one df trie boldest flights of imagination to which painter ever
ventured to give a local habitation and a name, and, though not as a whole to be
compared with the * Olympia,' which seems to us all but perfect, presents perhaps
a still loftier view of the artist's genius. Michael Angelo might have been proud
of that wonderful figure of the Archangel Gabriel, who keeps watch and w^ard
between the confines of Elysium and Tartarus ; and, indeed, the amazing cha-
racter of the whole conception is not unworthy of that sublime painter. Barry
was quite aware of the objections to which ' Elysium, or the State of Final
Retribution' was exposed. '' Although," he says, '' it is indisputably true that
it exceeds the highest reach of human comprehension to form an adequate con-
ception of the nature and degree of that beatitude which hereafter will be the
final reward of virtue ; yet it is also true that the arts which depend on the ima-
gination, though short and imperfect, may nevertheless be very innocently and
very usefully employed on the subject, from which the fear of erring ought
not to deter us from the desire of being serviceable." '' It was my wish,"
he continues, '' to bring together in Elysium those great and good men of
all ages and nations who were cultivators and benefactors of mankind. The
picture forms a kind of apotheosis, or more properly a beatification, of those
useful qualities which were pursued throughout the series." The truly admir-
able manner in which he has done this is remarkable ; he has utterly sunk all
consciousness of self, of the man Barry's religious, moral, political, philosophical.
e
366
LONDON.
[Barry's Tictures: View of Elysium.]
or artistical biases, in order to look over the field of human history as a superior
being might be supposed to look over it, who had nothing in common with hu-
manity, and, thus looking, true intellectual eminence is not difficult to be distin-
guished. The very case that has been adduced to prove the contrary is one of
the strongest of evidences of this, Hogarth's ; against whom Barry is said to have
had a grudge, and of whose merit he has certainly spoken disrespectfully — but
Hogarth is there. A more important evidence of the largeness and philosophical
grasp of the painter's mind is the way in which he has grouped his characters,
making light of the accidents of time, country, or costume, to impress with the
more striking force the essentials of biographical history. Thus we have Roger
Bacon, Archimedes, Descartes, and Thales, in one combination ; Homer, Milton,
Shakspere, Spenser, Chaucer, and Sappho, in another ; Alfred the Great, Penn,
and Lycurgus, in a third. Other portraits will be readily recognised in our en-
gravings. Two features of the picture exhibit Barry's judgment as conspicuously
in what he has avoided, as the whole shows his lofty courage in what he has
grappled with. Near the top of the picture, on the left, cherubim are seen
indistinctly through the blaze of light and glory that streams down — from whence
THE SOCIETY OF ARTS, &c. IN THE ADELPHI. 367
we need not ask ; at the opposite corner of the picture, at the bottom, we have
an indication equally slight, but equally sufficient, of Tartarus and the torments
of the damned. As an evidence of the spirit in which, as we have said, Barry-
introduced or kept out the persons who fell under his consideration when select-
ing for this picture, a little anecdote in reference to the Tartarean part of it may
be read with interest. In the emaciated limb which belongs to the garter of one
of the falling wicked, it was said that the leg of a nobleman who had offended
Barry was noticeable. When the remark reached the latter, he defended himself
with an earnestness and propriety that speak the truth of his words : " What 1
.particularly valued in my work," said he, " was a dignity, seriousness, and
gravity, infinitely removed from all personality." Still the temptation, it must
be owned, was great, and many no doubt wondered why they did not find there
the whole Academy. With another anecdote from the same source,* which we
give in the relator's words, we conclude this notice of the pictures : — '' A young
lady from the north, of great beauty and wit, went to take a look at the painter's
Elysium. She looked earnestly for a while, and said to Mr. Barry, 'The ladies
have not yet arrived in this Paradise of yours.' ' O, but they have, madam,'
said the painter with a smile, 'they reached Elysium some time ao-o; but I
could find no place so fit for creatures so bright and beautiful as behind yon
very luminous cloud. They are there, and very happy, I assure you.' ''
And, referring once more to the painter's anticipated difficulties at the com-
mencement of his career, how did he subsist during the six long years this work
was in progress? Why, by working at night for the bread that was to keep him
alive the next day, or week ; making hasty drawings, or such engravings as the
Job, Birth of Venus, and Lear ; and when these failed, and he applied to the
Society for assistance by a small subscription, and was refused, why then — God
iknows what he did then; for he was too proud to borrow, too honest to run in
I debt. However, he struggled on, bating no jot of heart or hope, until the Society
gave him a donation of fifty guineas, and after that another of similar amount ;
and so the goal was reached at last. The paintings, begun in 1777, were com-
pleted in 1783. Something like reward now followed. The Society allowed
the work to be exhibited for his benefit ; Johnson came, and pronounced his
decision in his usual weighty words, " There is a grasp of mind there which you
I will find no where else;" Burke, estranged as he was from his once "dear Barry"
(and, it must be owned, not through his fault), looked upon the walls with an
I honest exultation as he felt how he had contributed to the success of the author ;
j whilst good Jonas Han way had scarcely paid his shilling and looked over the
j noble works around him, before he hurried back to demand its return from the
astonished doorkeeper ; and, on receiving it, put down a guinea in its place. By
j this exhibition Barry gained 500/. ; by the etchings of the pictures which he
I made with his own hands, 200/. more ; 100/. he received from Lord Romney,
j the President of the Society, whose portrait was introduced ; 100/. was bequeathed
i to him by Timothy Hollis, as *'the painter of the work on Human Culture,'' and
Lord Radnor presented him, in a delicate way, with 50/. The use Barry made
* Cunniiiijliam's * Lives of the Painters,' &c.
n
368
LONDON.
of this money gives the finishing touch to the character of this noble artist :— he
placed his money in the funds, and secured to himself an income of 60/. a-year •
and that sum may be said to be the money value of Barry, as an artist, to the
age he lived in, and which he has so greatly adorned by these imperishable
works.
';
[Barry's Pictures: Elysium, or the State of Final Retribution. J
I
[Bartliolomew's Hospital.]
CXXIV.— MEDICAL AND SURGICAL HOSPITALS AND
LUNATIC ASYLUMS.
I It is perhaps, on the whole, a matter of congratulation that the London Hospitals
are more eminent as schools of medicine and surgery than for their influence as
social institutions. In Paris one-third of the deaths (9338 out of 28,294, in 1840)
occur in the hospitals, but in London the proportion is only one in nineteen
(2358 out of 46,281). The domestic feeling, or prejudice, if we like to call it so,
of the English people is, generally speaking, believed to be adverse to that
public association which is inevitable in an hospital. This is true to a great
extent ; but, on the other hand, it is also the limited capacity of the London hos-
pitals which restricts the proportion of persons dying there to one in nineteen. In
ten general hospitals there does not exist accommodation for more than three
thousand persons at one time, and every '' taking-in day '* a large number of
persons are unable to obtain admission.
There is scarcely a district of London which is without its hospital of one kind
or another ; but we shall first notice the three great hospitals, two of which are
of ancient foundation, and are historically interesting. The most ancient of
these is St. Bartholomew's Hospital. Rahere, the minstrel of King Henry I.,
not content with founding the priory of St. Bartholomew, annexed to it an hospital,
about the year 1122, for the relief of poor and sick persons. Alfune, who,
among other charitable works, built the church of St. Giles- without-Cripplegate,
and was the first ''hospitaller," used daily to beg for the relief of the poor under
VOL. v. 2 B
370 LONDON.
his care at the adjoining market and shambles of Smithfield. Four centuries
after the foundation of the hospital, the mayor, aldermen, and commonalty of the
city of London prayed the King to commit the order and governance of both this
hospital and St. Thomas's to their hands. The hospital, however, was not trans-
ferred to the city until 1546, eight years later, during which period the Crown
continued to enjoy its revenues, which at the dissolution were of the gross annual
value of 371 /., of which sum 292/. was from rents in London and the suburbs. In
1 544 the hospital was newly incorporated, but its revenues were not re-granted ; and
it does not appear that the new constitution ever came into operation. At length,
two years afterwards, in 1546, the king consented to re-found the hospital, for the
reception of one hundred poor and sick persons, and to endow it with five
hundred marks from its former possessions, on condition that the citizens raised
yearly other five hundred marks for its support. This they agreed to do : -but
Stow says that the houses which formed the bulk of the property granted by the
King were either in such a decayed state or leased out at such low rents, that
great difficulty was experienced in obtaining the required income, and various
expedients were adopted to raise this sum. In 1548 there were three surgeons,
with salaries of 18/. each, appointed to be in daily attendance on the sick;
and in 1552 the expenditure, including the payment to the ministers of
Christ's Church and St. Bartholomew's, and the diet of the one hundred poor at
2d. per day each, amounted to about 856/. per annum. In 1557 this hospital,
with St. Thomas's, Christ's, Bridewell, and Bethlem, were united for purposes
of administration, and their affairs were managed by one general board until
1782, when an act was passed under which, with the exception of Bridewell and
Bethlem, each of them was placed on its present footing and under separate
government.
The income of the hospital at present exceeds 30,000/. a-year. The bulk of
the real estate is in London, and the London rents amount to 17,011/. a-year;
landed estates in different parts of the country produce 6187^ ; dividends on stock
in the funds, 5236/. ; rent-charges and annuities, 1087/. ; and the benefactions
and legacies for ten years averaged 440/. a-year. The pecuniary donations and
bequests to the hospital, received up to 1836, amounted to 236,019/., including
40,978/. appropriated to building the four wings between 1729 and 1748.
St. Bartholomew's Hospital is situated on the south-east side of Smithfield
Market. The principal entrance is through a large arch, ornamented with a statue
of Henry VIII., and two figures representing Lameness and Sickness. The main
buildings consist of four separate elevations of three stories in height, faced with
stone, standing detached on the four sides of a quadrangle. They were completed
from the produce of voluntary subscriptions raised between 1729 and 1760. On
the first floor of the north wing there is a very handsome hall, 90 feet by 35, and
30 feet high, which is appropriated to general court meetings and the annual
dinners of the governors. The grand staircase was painted gratuitously by
Hogarth. The four several stories of the south wing contain fifteen wards, and
the west wing contains fourteen wards. The wards in the east and west wings
are 52 feet by 2\h; and their height varies from 10 to 15 feet. In the south
wing the wards are 60 feet in length, and the heights are the same on each floor
as in the east and west wings. To every ward an apartment for the sister in
MEDICAL AND SURGICAL HOSPITALS AND LUNATIC ASYLUMS. 371
attendance is annexed. In the roof of each wing is a tank for water, containing
from 1800 to 2000 gallons, supplied by a steam-engine; and a continual supply
from the New River Company is carried all through the hospital by force-pumps.
Besides the quadrangle, the area of the hospital comprises buildings, almost as
extensive, for the residences of the different officers, &c. There is also the church
of St. Bartholomew the Less, rebuilt about sixteen years ago, at a cost of 6035/.
out of the hospital funds. At the back of the western wing is a range of build-
ings containing the Lecture-Room for Materia Medica, the Medical Theatre,
Pathological Theatre, Chemical Theatre, the Anatomical Museum, Dissecting-
Rooms, rooms for lecturers, professors, and curators, pupils' room and library,
laboratory, apothecary's shop, surgeon's and physician's rooms. The treasurer's
house and garden, the burial-ground of the church, and the vicarage-house,
occupy the space north-east of the western wing ; and between it and the south-
western gateway are houses for the steward, the matron, and the apothecary.
St. Thomas's Hospital was originally a religious establishment, founded by
Richard, prior of Bermondsey, in 1213. In 1538 its possessions were valued at
266/. ; and in the following year they were surrendered to the King. Before the
middle of the century the suppressed hospital was purchased by the City of
London ; and a charter from the crown having been obtained in 1551, and the
building repaired and adapted for the reception of poor, lame, and diseased
people, it was opened for their admission in November, 1552. For some time
the funds of the hospital were insufficient ; and in 1562 the lands late belonging
to the Savoy Hospital, and some other property, which had been granted to the
three hospitals united, were granted for the sole use of St. Thomas's, with a view,
perhaps, of equalising the revenues of the several hospitals. Notwithstanding
this assistance, in 1564 the treasurer was obliged to advance lOOL, and in 1569
a sum of 50/. was obtained by pawning a lease ; but it soon afterwards emerged
from its difficulties. The rents of property in London and the suburbs at present
realise 13,962/. a-year ; the rental of estates in the_ country 9950/.; and the
dividends on stock 671/. From 1693 to 1836 the pecuniary gifts to the hos-
pital amounted to 184,378/. The gross annual income applicable to the general
purposes of the institution is nearly 26,000/.
St. Thomas's Hospital is situated in the borough of Southwark, not far from
the foot of London Bridge. It consists of several courts or squares, in two of
which are statues; one, in brass, of Edward VI. by Scheemakers, and the other
one, of stone, of Sir Robert Clayton, Lord Mayor in 1680. A large part of the
hospital buildings was rebuilt in 1693, and additions were made to them in 1732.
A new north wing was completed in 1836, at a cost of 18,000/. ; the south wing in
1842 ; and it is intended to rebuild the centre on an adopted plan, when the whole
building will present a very imposing appearance. The site of the new north
wing and a portion of ground north of the old north wing were purchased of the
City for 40,850/., which was at the rate of 54,865/. per acre ! The Museum,
Anatomical Theatre, Demonstrating Theatre, Lecturing Theatre, Dissecting-
Room, and other appropriate offices attached, cost 8443/., and are built on a site
formerly covered by slaughter-houses, brothels, and miserable tenements. The
Museum and Dissecting-Room are 45 feet by 25 ; the Lecturing Theatre is
circular and 30 feet in diameter. The Museum contains about 6000 prepara-
2 b2
372 LONDON.
tions. The parish church of St. Thomas stands within the area of the hospital,
besides which there is a chapel. The whole parish is the property of the hospital.
There are nineteen wards, three of which are 107 feet by 28, and vary in height
from 12J feet to 14J feet. They are well ventilated, kept at a uniform and agree-
able temperature by two fires, and in cold weather by hot-water apparatus, and
are generally quite free from oifensive smells.
The founder of Guy's Hospital was neither minstrel nor priest, and though
claimed by booksellers as one of their body, his property was acquired by stock-
jobbing rather than by literature. At any rate he was a man of great benevo-
lence, and had long been a munificent supporter of St. Thomas's Hospital when he
determined himself to be the founder of a new hospital. At the age of seventy-
six he commenced the erection of the present building, on which during his life-
time he spent nearly 19,000/. He died on the 27th of December, 1724, and on
the 24th of January following sixty patients were received into the hospital. In
1732 the sum of 220,134/. 2^. 7 id. was carried to the account of his executors, as
the residue of Mr. Guy's estate. This magnificent bequest has been laid out at
different times in the purchase of real estates in the counties of Essex, Hereford,
and Lincoln. The hospital has also been benefited by the enormous bequest of
Mr. Hunt, who in 1829 left it a sum amounting to 186,675/., besides other pro-
perty which made the total amount 196,115/., on condition of enlarging the
hospital and providing one hundred additional beds. This legacy has also been
invested in estates. The other benefactions received from the foundation of the
hospital to the present time amount to about 10,000/. The gross income is now [
above 30,000/. a-year, and about 21,000/. a-year is directly applicable to the
purposes of the charity. The rental of the hospital estates is 24,732/. a-year, of
which 2298/. is derived from the Southwark estates, and the dividends from
funded property average about 4600/. a-year.
The entrance to Guy's Hospital is in St. Thomas's Street, by an iron gate
opening into a square, in the centre of which is a statue, in brass, of Mr. Guy, by
Scheemakers, the pedestal on which it stands bearing on one side an inscrip-
tion recording Mr. Guy's benevolence, and on the other sides are relievos of
Mr. Guy's arms, Christ healing the Impotent, and the Good Samaritan. The
main building consists of a centre and two wings, containing residences for the
Treasurer, Chaplain, Steward, Apothecary, Butler, Porter, and the ''Dressers; *'
a chapel, in which there is a statue, by Bacon, of Mr. Guy ; the '' taking-in " and
examination rooms, surgery, and waiting-rooms for out-patients, apothecary's
shop, medical store-room, laboratories, medical and operating theatres, the elec-
trical room (containing apparatus necessary for electrical and galvanic operations),
a room for post mortetn examinations, and several wards for patients. Behind
this is the Lunatic House, which is peculiar to this hospital. The number of
lunatics is twenty-four, the number provided for by Mr. Guy having been twent}'.
They have a tolerably spacious airing-ground in the rear of the building appro-
priated to their use, and a garden for their recreation adjoins it. The south
side of the hospital ground comprises a mass of buildings, some of which are sick
wards ; and here are also the museum, theatre, and dissecting-room, and the
museum of comparative anatomy, the residences of servants of the hospital, and
various offices and store-rooms. The anatomical theatre and the larger theatre
MEDICAL AND SURGICAL HOSPITALS AND LUNATIC ASYLUMS. 373
in the main building afford accommodation for about 300 persons. The operating
theatre is of smaller size. At the eastern extremity of the area^ bounded on the
north by St. Thomas's Street, is the Botanic Garden, which is occasionally used
by the students, but its chief value consists in the improved ventilation which it
secures to the whole establishment. The wards are all spacious and airy^ and are
warmed by means of stoves.
The constitution of the London Hospitals is not uniform, though in all of them
the ruling body consists of the governors ; but the powers of the various officers
to whom the immediate management and superintendence of the hospital is en-
trusted are exercised under less control in some cases than in others. Since
1792 there have been two classes of governors at St. Bartholomew's, the char-
tered or corporation governors and the donation governors.
At St. Thomas's there are three kinds of governors. The corporation of
London is represented by the lord mayor and aldermen and twelve common
councilmen, as at St. Bartholomew's ; and they do not derive their authority from
the other governors, but from the charter of the hospital and the Act of 1782.
The special governors consist almost entirely of retired officers, and the executors
of benefactors are occasionally appointed. This class of governors is not re-
quired to contribute towards the funds of the Hospital, and it is this only which
distinguishes them from donation governors. It has invariably been the
practice to admit as donation governors any person willing to pay 50Z. who
can procure governors to propose and second them.
The government of Guy's Hospital was settled by the founder. The number
of governors must be at least fifty and not exceed sixty, with a committee of
twenty-one, to whom the immediate management of its affairs is entrusted, and
of this number one-third retire annually. The governors are chosen from a list
presented at a general court by the president and treasurer, and no division has
ever taken place on their admission : no donation is required, and the appoint-
ment is for life.
The next important department of the hospitals consists of the medical and
surgical establishment, including the '^sisters" and nurses. At St. Bartholo-
mew's there are three principal physicians and three assistant physicians, three
principal surgeons and three assistant surgeons, who are appointed by the
General Court: they do not reside in the hospital, but there are in addition three
house-surgeons and an apothecary, for whom apartments are provided. One or
other of the physicians and surgeons visits the hospital every day in the week,
and one physician and surgeon attends the almoners in rotation on the weekly
admission-days for the purpose of examining patients. The physicians receive a
salary of 105/., but their principal emolument is derived from the fees paid by the
pupils attending the medical practice of the hospital, which are fifteen guineas
for eighteen months and thirty guineas for the perpetual right. These pupils,
two or three of whom are in constant attendance on each principal physician, pre-
scribe simple remedies in his absence. The physicians have also the opportunity
of becoming lecturers to the students attending the hospital school. The salary
of the assistant physicians is 100/. per annum, but they are not allowed to take
pupils, though they may become lecturers to the medical classes. The stipend
of the principal surgeons is 401, besides a gratuity of 30/. each voted to them by
\-
374 LONDON.
the general court, and the fees paid by the hospital pupils are divided equally
among them. Each of the principal surgeons has the privilege of nominating!
six dressers, who, in addition to the ordinary fee of twenty-five guineas for
attending the surgical practice, pay a further fee of twenty-five guineas each.
Out of these one is named as his house-surgeon for the year, for which a further
fee of fifty guineas is paid. In going through the wards the principal surgeon i
of the day is attended by the pupils, frequently from sixty to eighty in number,
or even a hundred. The assistant-surgeons only act for their respective princi
pals, and have neither salary nor any participation in the fund arising from the
pupils' fees ; but they usually succeed to the ofiice of principal surgeons. The
house-surgeons superintend and direct the dressers in the absence of the sur-
geons, perform minor surgical operations, and receive a salary from the hospital
of 25/. a-year. The services of the eighteen ''dressers " are highly useful in ex
tending the advantages of the hospital. They attend to casual injuries of minor
importance in cases where there is no necessity for the patient either being re-
ceived into one of the wards or admitted as an out-patient, and they contribute
to the comforts of the in-patients by watching the symptoms of their disease. On
a patient being admitted into one of the wards, the dresser writes on the paper
hung up at the head of each bed the name and age of the patient, the name of
the complaint, the date of admission, and his own name, with a minute of the
diet, medicines, and local applications ordered by the surgeon. They are re-
quired to collect a history of each new case, to report the progress of old cases,
and to take down a full history of such cases as may be pointed out to them.
They dress fractures, wounds, ulcers, and all cases that require local applications.
The "sisters'' of the wards are twenty-nine in number, one superintending each
ward and one attending upon the casualty patients. They have usually been
persons who have received some education and have lived in a respectable rank
of life. Recently they have been at times selected from some of the most active
and trustworthy among the nurses. The majority of the sisters receive from
14,y. to 20*. a-week, the four seniors from 22*. to 31^. 6d., and on Sundays a dinner
is provided for them at the cost of the hospital. The duties of a sister consist
in a general superintendence of the ward to which she is attached, in carrying
into effect the directions of the medical officers, taking charge of and administering
the medicines, reporting to the cook the daily diet required for the patients, and
giving information to the medical officers of any change of symptoms in the pa-
tients. The nurses, seventy-five in number, act under the sisters, two of them
being attached to a single and three to a double ward. They perform the usual
duties of servants, in waiting on and cleaning the patients, the beds, furniture,
wards, and stairs ; and are paid 7s. a-week, and partly dieted at the expense of
the hospital.
The majority of persons received as patients into the London Hospitals are
mechanics, labourers, reduced tradesmen, or servants. There are, however,
numerous admissions of individuals of both sexes, and particularly females, of
the very lowest class of society and the worst character. The most common i
offences against the regulations are smoking, swearing, gambling, and fighting,
and refusals to attend to the directions of the medical officers. Instances have
occurred in which the lives of the sisters or nurses have been threatened by
MEDICAL AND SURGICAL HOSPITALS AND LUNATIC ASYLUMS. 375
.patients of the lowest and most abandoned class. In all ordinary cases it is
necessary that an applicant for admission should obtain the recommendation of a
governor by his signature to a printed petition, of which forms are procured at
the hospital. Many are admitted without any other recommendation than the
urgency of their case. Cases of accident are admitted on all days, at any hour
whatever ; but at every hospital one day in the week is set apart as the regular
day of admission, when the applicants attend in the patients' waiting-room one
hour before the meeting of the board. Small-pox is the only disease against
which the doors of the hospital are absolutely closed. The admissions average
between fifty and sixty on the regular days, which is also the average number
of the accident admissions and others which take place on other days. The out-
patients consist of such as, being in want of medical aid, either do not apply for,
or from the nature of the case or the want of room cannot obtain, admission into
the hospital ; or of convalescents, who, when partially cured in the hospital, are
removed to make room for others. The casualty patients include all who apply
on any day in the week between ten and twelve for surgical assistance. They
are seen by the dresser in attendance, and the case is treated and a record of it
entered under the direction of the house-surgeon. The number of beds at St.
Bartholomew's is 533, and the number of in-patients is between 5000 and 6000
a-year, of out-patients between 8000 and 9000, and of casualty patients upwards
of 20,000. The deaths amongst in-patients are about one in eighteen, or about
360 a-year.
At St. Thomas's and Guy's the general medical economy, arrangement, and
regulations are of much the same nature as at St. Bartholomew's, and it is
unnecessary to enter into a minute detail of them. At St. Thomas's there are
nineteen wards, each of which is superintended by one of the sisters, who were
formerly selected from the nurses, but are so no longer. There is always one
candidate for the office in training. The nurses are divided into day-nurses and
night- watchers, the latter of whom enter upon their duties at eight in the evening
and remain until ten the next morning. It is found very difficult to get persons
fitted for either of these offices, as the duties are onerous and disagreeable, and
the stipend smalL The total number of in and out-patients to whom relief was
administered in 1836 was 46,674, classed as follows: Physicians' out-patients
14,404, surgeons' out-patients 19,870, midwifery out-patients 1451, apothecary's
out-patients 5965; and of in-patients there were 3025 discharged during the year
and 298 died. The remainder were under cure on the 31st day of December.
When a patient dies, the body is laid out, and, after remaining in the bed about
four hours, is taken to the dead-house ; the bed and bedding are thoroughly
washed and cleansed; the bed is entered as a *'dead bed," and remains unoccu-
pied about a week.
At Guy's the number of beds v/hich can be made up on an emergency is 600.
The average number of applications for admission on the regular day is 100,
of whom on an average 43 are admitted and 57 rejected. The deaths are about
6 per week. On the death of a patient, a screen is placed round the bed ; but it is
rarely possible to conceal the circumstance from the others in the ward, and
within three or four hours the body is removed to the undertaker's room. The
out-patients of this hospital amount, perhaps, to 40,000 a-year. About 60 sur-
376 LONDON.
gical tickets are issued per week ; 80 surgical casualties per day ; 30 eye-cases
per week ; 90 physician's tickets per week ; 6 cases per day relieved at the
apothecary's shop ; 20 obstetric cases per week, and 30 ordinary lying-in cases •
or taking three weeks as the average of attendance of each class of cases, there
is an average of above 100 persons in the daily receipt of medicine or attend-
ance, independently of slight casualties relieved.
The importance of the great London Hospitals as schools of medicine is well
known. Nearly every medical and surgical practitioner has '' walked the hospi-
tals," as the phrase goes ; and though the recognition of provincial medical
schools renders it no longer absolutely necessary that a medical student should
have attended a London hospital, yet the number who " come up " for this pur-
pose is but little diminished. The vicinity of the hospitals swarms with these
incipient Galens; and they are so thick on the ground in some quarters, parti-
cularly in the neighbourhood of the Borough hospitals, as to give the district a
distinctive character. Certainly the " medical students " are entitled as a class
to figure amongst the social lights and shadows of this great metropolis.
There are thirteen schools of medicine in London, but the most important are
those connected with the great hospitals, though it is chiefly within the last twenty
years that they have attained their pre-eminence over the private schools of me-
dicine. The lectures of John Hunter, in Windmill Street, about 1768, were the
first complete course ever delivered in the metropolis ; and in 1749 all the dis-
sections carried on in London were confined to one school, that over which John
Hunter's brother presided. But even at St. Bartholomew's Hospital the intro-
duction of lectures is of very recent date. Mr. Percival Pott, a distinguished
surgeon of this hospital nearly eighty years ago, was in the habit of delivering
occasional instruction in this manner; but the late Mr. Abernethy, about twenty-
five years ago, may be said to have been the father of the system as it at present
exists. The institution of a medical school in connexion with an hospital adds to
the emoluments of the medical officer ; furnishes, through the medium of the
pupils, additional and gratuitous attendance on the hospital patients ; and, lastly,
imparts a medical education to the pupils themselves by lectures, illustrated
during their personal attendance on the patients, by observation of the progress
and symptoms of disease, the mode of treatment adopted, and the results. The
governors of this hospital have since expended above 5000/. in buildings intended
to facilitate the acquisition and communication of medical science. The museum
was built so recently as 1835.
From 1760 to 1825 the schools of surgery of St. Thomas's and Guy's Hospitals
were united, and the fees paid by the surgical pupils of both hospitals were put
into one common fund, and divided equally amongst the surgeons and apothecaries
of the two establishments. Medical lectures only were delivered at Guy's Hos-
pital, while surgery, together with anatomy, was taught at St. Thomas's. For
many years the late Sir Astley Cooper, who was surgeon at Guy's, filled the office
of anatomical lecturer at St. Thomas's. This union was dissolved in 1825, in
consequence of the governors of the two institutions differing respecting the ap-
pointment of a lecturer on anatomy ; though we believe there is still some traces
of the old connexion to be found in existing regulations. In 1825 it was re-
solved that the means of surgical education should be provided within the pre-
MEDICAL AND SURGICAL HOSPITALS AND LUNATIC ASYLUMS. 377
jincts of Guy's Hospital. Accordingly, the building which contains the anato-
lical schools, museum, &c. was erected at a cost of about 8000/. Sir Astley
Jooper was appointed principal lecturer in surgery, his nephew succeeding him
18 surgeon. On this occasion Sir Astley was desirous of presenting to Guy's
'ospital his anatomical models and preparations, Avhen the governors of St.
'homas's refused to surrender them, but ultimately gave him 1000/. for his
[interest in them. A few years ago, in consequence of some offence given by
them, the privileges of the students of Guy's, in being admitted to see the prac-
tice of St. Thomas's, was restricted to some extent by the authorities of the latter
jstablishment, when a most serious riot took place. The refractory students were
lindicted for the offence, and a slight punishment was awarded by the court.
The fees paid by pupils entering the medical and surgical practice of this hospital
lare about 3000/. a-year^ which is divided amongst the principal physicians, prin-
sipal surgeons, and apothecary. The pupils admitted yearly to the house-practice
[vary from 100 to 130, and an attendance of three years is required by the
[Apothecaries' Society.
We can scarcely do more than mention the names of the other hospitals. The
[Westminster Hospital, opposite the Abbey, was established in 1719, and was the
first institution of the kind supported by voluntary contributions. It contains
faccommodation for 200 patients. St. George's Hospital was established in 1733,
by a dissentient party in the management of the Westminster Hospital, and
Lanesborough House was at first engaged for the purpose. The principal front
of the present building is 180 feet long, faces the Green Park, and is of rather
imposing design. It contains a theatre for the delivery of lectures and an anato-
mical museum, and the number of beds is 317. The London Hospital was esta-
blished in 1740, and in 1759 was removed to its present situation in Whitechapel
[St. George's Hospital.]
378
LONDON.
Road. The patients are chiefly watermen, and labourers employed in the docks
and on the quays in the east parts of London. In this quarter we have also thej
Dreadnought, a large man of war which lies off Greenwich, and is fitted up as aj
hospital for sick and maimed seamen of every nation. This floating hospital is in!
every way a very admirable institution, and we regret that we have not space toi
notice it more fully. On the north side of London we have first the Middlesex
Hospital, established in 1740, and subsequently enlarged by two additional wings.
The number of beds is 300 ; and, through the munificence of the late Mr. Whit-
bread, provision is made here for patients afflicted with cancer, who may remain
in the hospital for life if they wish. The ordinary expenditure is nearly 8000/.
a-year. The Small-pox Hospital was originally established in 1746 by public
subscription, and opened at a house in Windmill Street, Tottenham Court Road;
but in 1767 was removed to its present situation at King's Cross. Adjoining it
is the London Fever Hospital, established in 1802, which contains beds for about
150 patients. University College Hospital was founded in 1834, and alreadyll
ranks high as a medical school. The number of students attending the practice
of the hospital is usually about 120, and nearly one-half of the income of the
institution consists of the fees paid by them. Proceeding to another part of the
metropolis, we find the Charing-Cross Hospital, established in 1831, and com-
bining the two plans of a dispensary and an hospital for in-patients. In Portugal
Street, near Lincoln's Inn, is King's College Hospital, established in 1839. It|
has an income of about 4000/. a-year. There is also the Royal Free Hospital
for the Destitute, first established in Greville Street, in 1828, and removed to
Gray's Inn Road in 1842, supported entirely by voluntary contributions. We
subjoin the population of the principal general hospitals of the metropolis on the
day when the census was taken : —
Number of Persons
Num
ber of Patients,
employed in the
Deaths
June 7, 1841.
Establishment or Resident
Grand
Name of Hospital.
i on June 7, 1841.
Total.
in
1839.
M.
F.
Total.
1 M.
F.
Total.
St. George's .
178
134
312
! 10
46
56
368
250
Westminster . .
08
75
143
6
22
28
171
95
Middlesex
109
103
212
9
36
45
257
156
Charing Cross .
43
46
89
6
13
19
108
102
King's College
56
45
101
6
20
26
127
,
University College .
56
45
101
9
15
24
125
194
Fever . . .
14
15.
29
1
10
11
40
161
Small-pox . ,
15
10
25
1 2
7
9
34
28
Loudon .
205
108
313
! 11
60
71
384
311
St. Bartholomew's
194
192
386
i 22
125
147
533
361
Guys . . .
251
192
443
49
161
210
6j3
219
St. Thomas's .
125
116
241
22
81
103
344
214
Dreadnought .
16S
••
168
17
9
26
194
110
Total
1
•
1482
1081
2563
170
605
775
3338
2231
New institutions of this nature are every year springing up, especially those
intended for the reception of special classes of disease, — as consumption and the
diseases of the chest, cutaneous diseases, diseases of the e3^e and ear, &c. &c. —
though some of these new establishments are dispensaries rather than hospitals.
MEDICAL AND SURGICAL HOSPITALS AND LUNATIC ASYLUMS. 379
Che 'Sanatorium/ in the New Road, opened in 1842, is an especially interesting
institution, and calculated to be of most essential service to a particular class,
,s governesses, clerks, and other persons of respectable station who are without
iends in London ; but we cannot here do more than refer to the interesting Annual
eport.
Besides the institutions just enumerated, there are numerous lying-in hospitals
different parts of the metropolis : none of them are as yet a century old, the
arliest (the British Lying-in Hospital in Brownlow Street) having been established
1749. Comparing the first ten years of its existence with the first ten years
f the present century, it appears that the deaths of mothers had fallen from 1
n 42 admitted to 1 in 288, and the deaths of children from ] in 1 5 to 1 in 1*7 ,
ispensaries, for supplying the poor with medicine and advice gratis, are also
bund in every part of London. Some of them have been in existence about
ighty years ; but they originated at the close of the last century, and led to
ihose medical squabbles which made the subject of Garth's poem. These insti-
utions are often made use of by persons of a very different class from those whom
hey are more particularly intended to benefit.
The Lunatic Hospitals and Asylums, though widely differing in most respects
[rem the medical and surgical hospitals, are still institutions of the same class,
.bove 3200 lunatics and idiots are in confinement within the limits of the metro-
►olitan Lunacy Commissioners, above half of whom are confined in 34 licensed
lOuses, about 300 at Bethlem, above 200 at St. Luke's, 24 at Guy's, and nearly
000 at Hanwell. Bethlem and St. Luke's only come within our province on the
►resent occasion.
Bethlem Hospital, or the House of Bethlem, as it was originally called, was
[bunded as a convent by Simon Fitz-Mary, a citizen of London, in 1247. The
[punder directed, that in token of subjection and reverence, one mark sterling
lould be paid yearly at Easter to the Bishop of Bethlem or his nuncio. The
late of this house being converted into an hospital is not known, but in 1330, less
lan a century after its foundation, it had acquired this designation. In 1346
;he brethren of the house were dispersed abroad collecting alms, and an applica-
rion on their behalf was made to the mayor and aldermen to be received into
iheir protection. The earliest notice which can be found of lunatics having been
'cceived at Bethlem is 1403. There were then in the house six men deprived of
•eason, and three sick persons, as appears by an inquisition taken at the above
[date. The purchase of Bethlem by the city took place in 1546. In 1555-6 it Avas
for a short time, along with the other hospitals, under the same government as
Christ's Hospital; but in 1557 it was placed under the control of the governors
' |of Bridewell, one treasurer being appointed for both houses. This union still
subsists, and was confirmed by the act of 1 782, for regulating the royal hospitals.
The affairs of the two hospitals are transacted at the same courts, and the pro-
ceedings are recorded in the same books, as if the two houses were one founda-
tion ; but the accounts are kept in separate ledgers.
In 1555, it appears, by an account rendered to the Governors of Christ's Hos-
pital, that the "yerely issues and proffittcs" of Bethlem Hospital were 43/. %s. 4d.,
arising almost entirely from houses. A valuation of the re^-l estate^ was made
380 LONDON.
in 1632, and it appears that, if then out of lease, they would have produced
about 470/. per annum. For many years the funds were inadequate to themain-j
tenance of the hospital ; and in 1642 the preachers who were to preach at Easterl
at the Spittal were desired to make an appeal to the people in its behalf. Inj
1644, it appears there were 44 lunatics constantly maintained in Bethlem, and
the revenues only defrayed two-thirds of the charges. The endowments of the
hospital are now very ample, and the greater part of the property is applicable
to the general purposes of the institution ; but one portion (under the will of
Mr. Barkham) has been given exclusively for incurable patients, and consists of
3736 acres of land in Lincolnshire, which, with the tithes, produce 5790?. a-year,
of which only one-fourth is realised, applicable to the purposes mentioned in the!
will. The total income of the real and personal estate of the hospital for the
year ending Christmas, 1836, was 15,864Z., of which above 12,000/, was derived
from houses and land, and 3600/. from stock invested in the public funds. The
gross income of the hospital from all sources (the profits made by the recep-
tion of criminal lunatics excepted) averaged 16,263/. for the ten years ending in
1836.
Stow says that the church and chapel of Fitz-Mary's Hospital were taken
down in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and houses built instead by the governors
of Christ's Hospital. The Charity Commissioners give an extract, made in the
muniment book in 1632, which is the earliest description of the hospital they
could find. The old house contained "below stairs a parlour, a kitchen, two'
larders, a long entry throughout the house, arid twenty-one rooms wherein the .
poor distracted people lie, and above the stairs eight rooms more for servants \
and the poor to lie in, and a long waste room now being contrived and in work,
to make eight rooms more for poor people to lodge where there lacked room
before." Besides this, there was '' one messuage newly builded of brick, contain- 1
ing a cellar, a kitchen, a hall, four chambers and a garret, being newly added
unto the old rooms." Ten years later the question of enlarging the hospital
came under consideration, and a committee of view being appointed, it was
reported that the ground on which two old ruinous tenements stood would allow
of space for a new building to contain twelve rooms on the ground floor, and eight
over them for lunatics, and garrets for servants, and another yard for lunatics.
This addition to the hospital was effected, but it appears that altogether not more
than fifty or sixty patients could be accommodated.
After the Fire of London the governors resolved to build the house on a larger
scale, and the City granted them a lease of some ground, 740 feet long by 80
deep, adjacent to London Wall, for the site of their new building, which it was
intended should be capable of accommodating 120 lunatics. The lease was
granted for 999 years, subject to a rent of Is, if demanded, with a provision that
the lease should be void in case the building was devoted to any other purpose.
The new hospital (as it was recorded on an inscription over the entrance) was com-
menced in April, 1675, and completed in July, 1676. This was the centre of Old
Bethlem Hospital, and it was similar in design to the Tuileries. Its length
was 540 feet, and breadth 40 feet, besides the wall which enclosed the gardens
before it, "which were neatly ornamented with walks of freestone round about,
and a grass-plot in the middle, beside which garden there was another at each
MEDICAL AND SURGICAL HOSPITALS AND LUNATIC ASYLUMS. 381
bd for the lunatic people, when they were a little well of their distemper, to
alk in for refreshment." Two wings were added to the hospital in 1733, for the
•eception of incurable patients under the provisions of Mr. Barkham's will. In
,n edition of Stow, published in 1754, the hospital is described as consisting
'chiefly of two galleries one over the other, 193 yards long, 13 feet high, and 16
feet broad, not including the cells for the patients, which were 12 feet deep. These
galleries were divided in the middle by two iron gates, so that all the men were
placed in one end of the house, and all the women at the other, each having
:heir proper conveniences, as likewise a stone room where, in the winter, they
tiad a fire to warm them, and at each end of the lower gallery a larger grass-
iplot to air and refresh themselves in the summer, and in each gallery servants
lay to be ready at hand on all occasions; besides, below stairs there was made of
late a bathing-place for the patients, so contrived as to be a hot or cold bath as
occasion required." Towards the close of the last century the hospital had
become insufficient for the number of patients requiring an asylum ; and in 1 793
[the City granted a lease for an adjoining piece of ground which would have ena-
jbled the governors to enlarge the hospital ; but the bad state of the old buildings
[seems to have prevented any use being made of the space thus acquired. In the
Report of a committee, dated April, 1799, it is stated that the whole building was
dreary, low, and melancholy, and that the interior arrangements were ill-contrived,
and did not afford sufficient accommodation, and the close and confined situation
precluded the advantages of air and exercise. In consequence of this Report it
Was resolved not only to rebuild the hospital, but to transfer it to a new site.
Great and unexpected difficulties occurred to delay the erection of a new hospital,
land as the eastern wing had been rather too hastily pulled down, a reduction in
the number of patients became unavoidable. The discovery of the true bearing of
{the old lease (by which the lease granted by the City became void, if the site were
Inot used for a lunatic asylum), again protracted the negotiations. Four different
sites were fixed upon at Islington; the end of St. John's Street was thought of;
and at one period it was in contemplation to improve the site of the Old Hospital
and the approach through Old Bethlem to Moorfields. Finally the 2J acres
on which the old hospital stood were exchanged for the present site, containing
about 1 1 acres, the condition of the lease requiring that the new hospital should
!be capable of accommodating 200 patients, and that not less than eight acres of
the land should be appropriated to their use, while the governors were to be at
liberty to employ the rest for the general purposes of the hospital and in aug-
mentation of its revenues. The Act for effecting the settlement of this affair
!was passed in 1810.
I A site being thus provided, premiums were offered for designs for the intended
Ibuilding, and thirty-six plans were sent in. The surveyor of the hospital and
'two architects selected three from this number, and on the basis of these, but with
such alterations as he might consider necessary, Mr. Lewis was directed to form
la plan for a building to contain accommodation for 200 patients, but with offices
Ion a scale sufficient for twice that number. Further steps were taken to obtain
the necessary funds, for the governors had commenced, in 1804, to reserve a por-
tion of their revenues for building purposes. Grants of public money were also
obtained to the amount of 72,819/. ; the benefactions of public bodies amounted
382 LONDON. I
to 5405/., including 3000Z. from the corporation ; 500/. from the Bank of England ;
and various sums from several of the city companies; the amount contributed by
private individuals was 5709/. ; 23,766/. were contributed from the funds of the
hospital ; and a sum of 14,873/. accumulated as interest during the progress of
the work. The first stone of the new building was laid in April, 1812, and in
August, 1815, it was completed and ready for the reception of patients. The
total cost was 122,572/. It consists of a centre and two wings ; the centre is sur-
mounted by a dome, and the entrance is by an Ionic portico of six columns, sup-
porting the royal arms. In the hall are the two figures of Raving and Melancholy
Madness, executed by Gibber for the old hospital, and repaired in 1820 by Bacon, j
The wings, for which the government advanced 25,144/., are appropriated to|
criminal lunatics, who are supported at the public expense at a cost of 38/. 6s. Sd.
each. In 1837 the male criminal wing was enlarged, and there have been con-
siderable additions made to the hospital since that time. The first stone of some
additional new buildings was laid July 26th, 1838, on which occasion a public
breakfast was given, at a cost of 464/. to the hospital ; and a narrative of the pro-
ceedings was drawn up and printed with several documents, at a cost to the
charity of 140/. The length of the building as it now stands is 569 feet. There
are galleries, 219 feet 8 inches long, for male and female patients, both in the
basement, on the ground-floor, and on the first and second floors. There is a
fifth gallery, on the third floor of the central building, which is appropriated to
incurable patients, and differs considerably from the other galleries. The sleeping-
rooms are partitions divided from each other, and from a passage in front, by
bulk-heads about seven feet high, which do not reach to the ceiling. The
passage faces the south, and is more lively and cheerful than any of the others.
The patients are divided into three classes : the furious and mischievous, and
those who have no regard to cleanliness, being placed in the basement; ordinary
patients, on their admission, and those who are promoted from the basement,
are on the first floor ; and the second floor is appropriated to patients who are
most advanced towards recovery : and there are two other galleries for the in-
curable patients.
Under the Act of 1782 the united establishments of Bridewell and Bethlem
are governed by a president and treasurer elected by the general courts;
the court of aldermen and twelve councilmen ; and an unlimited number of
nomination governors. The number of governors at present is 343. Bethlem is
exempt from the visitations of the Commissioners of Lunacy, a privilege which
has not been of much advantage to it, for it has the demerit of having carried
into operation, to a period of less than thirty years ago, the unenlightened and
brutal system of treatment which distinguished the fifteenth century. In the
inquisition of 1403 the iron chains with locks and keys, and the manacles and
stocks there spoken of as belonging to Bethlem Hospital, indicate but too
plainly the system of that day. There are several passages in Shakspere which
show that bonds, darkness, and flagellation were the remedies adopted for the
recovery of the lost reason ! A passage in * Lear* alludes to the custom of allow-
ing lunatics whose malady was found to be unattended with danger to leave the
hospital with an iron ring soldered about their left arm, and a permission to
beg. In 1598 a committee appointed to view Bethlem reported that the place
MEDICAL AND SURGICAL HOSPITALS AND LUNATIC ASYLUMS. 383
;as so loathsome that it was not fit for any man to enter. It contained only
venty inmates, who were termed prisoners, and of these six only were main-
lined at the expense of the charity. Coming down to a later period, we find
lat the Hospital used to derive an income of '''at least 400/. a-year from the
idiscriminate admission of visitants, whom very often an idle and wanton
Liriosity drew to these regions of distress."* Ned Ward's * London Spy' shows,
ideed, that the lunatics were visited just in the same way as the lions at the
'ower. In 1770 the j^ractice was put a stop to. In 1740 it appears that
:rangers, as well as the friends of the lunatics, paid Id. on admission. The ex-
losure of the wretched system pursued at Bethlem, ^Vhich took place in 1814, in
jnsequence of the investigation of a parliamentary committee, is probably still
esh in the recollection of most readers. The visitors thus describe one of the
omen's galleries : — " One of the side-rooms contained about ten patients, each
jiiained by one arm or leg to the wall, the chain allowing them merely to stand
Ip by the bench or form fixed to the wall or to sit down again. The nakedness
if each patient was covered by a blanket-gown only. The blanket-gown is a
jlanket formed something like a dressing-gown, with nothing to fasten it in
ont : this constitutes the whole covering. The feet even were naked." One
jjmale in this room was found, who in lucid intervals talked most reasonably,
hd on being treated like a human being became an entirely different creature,
[any women were locked up in cells naked and chained, on straw, with only one
lanket for a covering, and the windows being un glazed, the light in winter was
lut out for the sake of warmth. In the men's rooms, " their nakedness and
iieir mode of confinement gave this room the complete appearance of a dog-
iennel." The patients not being classified, some were objects of resentment to
le others. The shocking case of William Norris, a lunatic confined here, ex-
ited a deep sensation, and by its exposure led eventually to improvement. At
|iis period, for months together, the committee made no inspection of the in-
[lates ! The house-surgeon was often in an insane state himself, and still
ji'tener drunk ; and one of the keepers who was frequently in the latter state
bmained undischarged. Just at this time also the governors spent 600/. in
ipposing a Bill for regulating madhouses !
j The improvements in the system of management at Bethlem began about 1816.
jatients of both sexes are now set to do such little offices as they are capable of.
hey assist in household occupations ; some employ themselves in knitting, tailor-
iig, and mending the clothes of the other patients. Females find occupation
ji the laundry and in making up linen, all the ordinary needlework of the house
|3ing performed by them ; and some are engaged in embroidery. In the airing-
jrounds many of the men play at ball, trap-ball, leap-frog, cricket, and other
|ames ; and the women are encouraged to dance in the evenings. Every case of
jistraint is now noted down, and must be at once reported to the medical officers,
iid brought under the notice of the committee.
; St. Luke's Hospital for lunatics, in Old Street, was opened in 1751, and was
jtended for the reception of those who could not obtain admission into old
jethlem Hospital. It has always been favourably distinguished for its manage-
I * Rev. Mr. Boweii's Account of the Hospital, 1783.
384
LONDON.
ment. The average number of inmates for 1842 was 209, and 242 were dis-
charged during the year. The Hospital is a very substantial brick edifice, but
it is to be regretted that it is not situated at least in the suburbs. The income
(above 8000/. a-year) is derived from legacies and donations amounting to
159,956/. invested in the funds, and receipts on account of uncured patients.
The great Lunatic Asylum for the county of Middlesex, situated at Hanwell,
a short distance to the left of the Great Western Railway, and about seven miles
from London, is one of the most remarkable establishments in the country : and
though it is somewhat out of our limits, we cannot pass it by without a brief
general notice.* The Asylum is intended for one thousand inmates, and accom-
modation will probably be eventually provided for thirteen hundred. The present
number of servants and officers exceeds one hundred. The grounds contain fifty-
three acres, twenty of which are cultivated as a farm, four as a garden, two as an
orchard, and nearly four are shrubberies. The airing- grounds and courts occupy
a space of eighteen acres, and the asylum buildings cover above three and a half
acres. The ancient bodily restraints, on which entire reliance was formerly
placed, have been disused, and even severity of tone has almost ceased to be
employed. We can here only say of the system, that it is in every respect precisely
opposite to that which, until within a comparatively short period, was acted upon
at Bethlem.
* We take tlie opportunity (as we have not space for details) to recommend all who are interested in the
subject to the admirable Reports of Dr. ConoUy, the physician at Hanwell, and also the Reports of the Visiting
Justices, by whom his enlightened efforts have been supported in a most excellent spirit.
[Bethlem Hospital.]
[Old Shop, corner of Fleet Street and Chancery Lane, in 1799.]
CXXV.— LONDON SHOPS AND BAZAARS.
If you would know and be not known/' it has been said, " live in a town ; if
3u would be known and not know, then vegetate in a village." When taken with
>me qualifications there is a great deal of truth in this apothegm. It is impos-
ble to live long in a town and not speedily '^ know" much, unless we resolutely
lut one's self up within doors. The shops of London are in themselves a very
clopgedia of instruction, in which he " who runs may read," and he who walks
ay read more. We there place ourselves in communion with artificers and
•oducers from all corners of the earth ; the bowls of '' souchong" and '' twankay"
the window of the grocer introduce us to the millions of the Celestial Empire ;
le spices in the same window carry us in imagination to Ceylon, to the Moluccas,
id to the tropical regions generally ; the " Italian warehouse," with its thousand
id one seductions for the palate, shows us what sunny Italy, and Greece, and the
levant can do for us : in short, the shops of a busy town are among the most
ggestive of all subjects for reflection, if we choose to carry the eye of the mind
VOL. V. 2 c
386 LONDON.
a little beyond the mere external appearance of the commodities displayed
therein, and think of the productive and commercial agencies by which those
commodities have been placed at our disposal.
Different periods of time, and different parts of the town, and different branches
of trade, afford very different means for prosecuting our observations on the
shops of London; and these differences afford the means for marking the social
progress of our townsmen — nay, the commercial progress likewise ; for the '' divi-
sion of labour/' the "power of combination/' and many other elements of political
economy, are brought to bear upon the philosophy of shop-keeping as well as
upon that of national government. We may view the arrangement of London
shops either chronologically, or technologically, or topographically, and we
should under each view find remarkable changes observable ; but perhaps a little
of all these will serve our purpose best.
The general character of the shops in olden London was to have the wares
exposed openly to the street, without any barrier of glass between the buyer andj
seller. Wherever our old topographers and chroniclers give a representation ol
a London shop — at least anterior to about the time of Queen Anne — this was the
observable feature. The shop, too, unlike those of modern days, was generally
smaller than the rooms above, on account of the overhanging of each floor or storj
beyond the one beneath it. There are yet remaining at the south end of Gray's
Inn Lane, and in a few other parts of London, specimens of this curious varietj
of domestic architecture; although most of such houses now display the luxur}
of a window to the shop.
If we go back to the time of Fitz-Stephen, who wrote in the twelfth century, w(
find that the bazaar system was much more extensively adopted in London thai
at the present day ; that is, that the members of one trade were wont to congre
gate at one spot, which thence became known as the mart for that particular kinc
of goods. This system is well known to be very prevalent in the East, where a
Constantinople, Smyrna, Cairo, and other large towns, most of the retail shop:
are assembled in this manner. If we look at the names of some of the oldei
London streets, such as Bread Street, Milk Street, Cornhill, Fish Street Hill
the Poultry, the Vintry, Honey Lane, Hosier Lane, Cordwainer Street, Wooc
Street, &c., we can scarcely avoid a conjecture that these were, at some distan
day, the points of rendezvous for dealers in those commodities. Fitz-Stephei
says: "The followers of the several trades, the vendors of various commodities
and the labourers of every kind, are daily to be found in their proper and dis
tinct places, according to their employments." He also has a passage which hai
given rise to some discussion concerning such of the shops as provided provisions
" On the bank of the river, besides the wine sold in ships and vaults, there is i
public eating-house or cook's- shop. Here, according to the season, you iiiaj
find victuals of all kinds, roasted, baked, fried, or boiled ; fish large and small
with coarse viands for the poorer sort and more delicate ones for the rich, such ai
venison, fowls, and small birds. In case a friend should arrive at a citizen':!
house, much wearied with his journey, and chooses not to wait, an hungered ai
he is, for the buying and cooking of meat, recourse is immediately had to th(
bank above mentioned, where everything desirable is instantly procured." No\v
in the first part of this description there is an allusion to wine being sold in shiff>
LONDON SHOPS AND BAZAARS.
387
a custom which is so different from any now followed that we can only understand
it thus — that wine being admitted duty free, purchasers went to the ships with
their bottles or vessels, and bought the wine ''in draught" at a cheaper price
than would suffice if the seller had the expense of keeping a shop. Fitz-Stephen
speaks of a public eating-house, situated near the river, as if it were the only
one of the kind ; and it would appear that this was frequented by high and low,
as there was a choice between '' delicate viands" and '' coarse viands."
^ [A. Frippery.]
, The '' frippery'.' or clothes-stall of Shakspere's time probably represented a
large class of shops such as existed in London during the reigns of the Edwards
and Henrys. In the fourth act of the 'Tempest,' where Ariel brings in some
handsome garments, Prosper© says, "Come, hang them on this line." This pas-
sage has given rise to much diversity of opinion among commentators, some
thinking that " liae' ought to be taken in reference to the branches of a line,
linden, or lime-tree. The editor of the ^ Pictorial Shakspere ' expresses an opinion
that the meaning is rightly rendered in the common reading of the passage.
"Had not," he asks, "the clowns a distinct image in their minds of an old
clothes-shop —
" * We know what belongs to a frippery' ?"
Here is a picture of a frippery, from a print dated 1587, with its clothes hung in
ine and level. This frippery is evidently something more than an old clothes-
shop : the tailor is seated on his board with the implements of his craft about him,
and has the aspect of one who could make new clothes as well as sell old ones.
There is a print in Smith's ' Antiquities of London,' of which we give a
opy at the head of our paper, of a house which stood at the corner of
Chancery Lane so late as the year 1799, where now stands the large and mo-
dern residence and shop of a robe-maker. If this house had not undergone
Iteration, then it would seem to show that shop-windows were tolerably
ommon in the time of Edward VI., the date to which the house was referred.
The print presents to view a small double-parted shop, having hanging on the
2c2
388 LONDON.
outside several articles for sale which look like saddles ; and over this are five
stories of private apartments, each of three projecting beyond the one beneath
it, and all decorated in a highly curious manner. But the shop windows do
not by any means accord with the general character of the front, and give evidence
of having been put in at a later date : indeed, this is rendered certain by a para-
graph which Smith quotes from the 'Morning Herald' of May 20, 1799: — ''The
house in Fleet Street, which the City is now pulling down to widen Chancery
Lane, is the oldest in that street, being built in the reign of Edward VI. for an
elegant mansion, long before there were any shops in that part of the City."
Among other plates given by Smith, and illustrating the shop architecture of
other days^ is one of Winchester Street, London Wall. The houses were built in
1656, and two of them have small-squared glass shop-windows ; but many of the
others appear to be open shops. In another, representing houses on the north
side of Long Lane, Smithfield, said to be built during the Commonwealth, two of
ihe shops appear to have glass windows, with shutters sliding in grooves at top
and bottom ; while another has an unglazed shop-window. Another represents a
house on the west side of Little Moorfields, built in the time of Charles L, and
presenting a curious arrangement of scroll ornaments in the front : there is a
bow window to the shop below, but we incline to think that it is more modern
than the rest of the house. There is another of Smith's prints which represents
a more singular-looking assemblage of shops than any of the others: this is a
view of part of Duke Street, West Smithfield, as it appeared down to the end of
the last century. Here the shops are almost buried; for the upper rooms pro-
ject considerably beyond them ; while, through the gradually raising of the street,
the level of the shop has been relatively lowered ; till all the shops, some with
windows and some without, look nearly as much like cellars as shops.
That sash-windows were not common to shops till towards the beginning of the
last century, we may judge from many circumstances. Addison, in No. 162 of
the * Tatler,' while speaking of many changes that had recently occurred in
London, says, " As for the article of building, I intend hereafter to enlarge upon
it, having lately observed several Avarehouses, nay, private shops, that stand
upon Corinthian pillars, and whole rows of tin pots showing themselves, in order
to their sale, through a sash-window." But if the shops of the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries have possessed that which was wanting in their predecessors,
the moderns have fallen off in one very characteristic feature, viz. the sign-boards
over the shops. We cannot look upon Hogarth's street pictures without remark-
ing the almost universal prevalence of this custom. The signs of the " Golden
Key/' of the "Golden Fleece," of the "Bible and Crown," &c., are displayed
conspicuously before us, in connexion not only with public-houses, as in modern
times, but also with most other trading shops. In former times the houses in a
street were by no means uniformly numbered, as at present : indeed, the numbering
was a rare practice ; and, therefore, the owner of a shop was compelled to adopt
some symbol by which his shop could be known. This symbol was depicted on a
sign-board in front of his house, and was often as incongruous as those of modern
taverns. The " Naked Boy " was the sign of a bookseller's shop in Fleet Street,
where many works were published in the early part of the last century ; and the
title-pages of old books would show many equally ludicrous instances.
LONDON SHOPS AND BAZAARS. 389
Tfie shops of the last century differed from those of the present in this circum-
stance among others, — that many were itinerant shops at that day which are
permanent shops now. The wares exposed for sale in the open street are much
less numerous than formerly, at least in the better class of streets^ The instruc-
tions which Gay gives in his ' Trivia/ in relation to the art of walking the streets
of London, contain many allusions which point to this state of things, but to which
we need not pay much attention here.*
By what steps the shops of the metropolis have arrived at their present posi-
tions— how the heavy shapeless window yielded to the light bow window, and the
latter to the modern flat windo\y| how small squares of glass have given way to
larger ones, crown glass to plate glass, clumsy wooden sash-bars to light brass
ones ; how the once lowly shop has reared its head so as to include even the next
higher floor within its compass — must have been noticed by all who are familiar
with the huge metropolis. The result of all these changes has been to give to
the London shops a character of magnificence which has drawn forth expressions
of wonder from many a pen. Southey, in his ' Letters of Espriella,' has given a
graphic picture of the London shops, the ^' cut-glass glittering like diamonds,'*
the " painted piece of beef swinging in a roaster, and exhibiting the machine
which turns it," the '' busts, painted to the life, with glass eyes, and dressed in
full fashion, to exhibit the wigs which are made within,," &c. But to understand
the shops of this '' world of a city "—the sixteen or seventeen thousand which
London is said to contain — we shall do well to glance at a few 6f the most nota-
ble, or at least most conspicuous, retail trades in succession, so far as shop
arrangements depend on the nature of the commodities sold.
In the first place, then — and pity 't is that the first place should be so occu-
pied— we have the public-houses, taverns, and gin-palaces. Those shops have
been among the first to introduce a decorative style of shop-architecture; and,
what seems to many persons most strange, the poorer the neighbourhood, the
more splendid do these places become. There are about four thousand regularly-
licensed public-houses in London, besides a large number of drinking-houses of
various kinds which cannot come under this designation. The change between past
and present times is more marked in respect to public-houses than to almost any
other kind of retail shop in London. All the descriptions which writers have
given of the older houses of this character bear a strong family likeness, as
do the pictures which Hogarth and others have left. The tavern-keeper was
a jolly, portly man, with a red face, knee-breeches (into the pockets of which his
hands were often thrust) ^ and buckled shoes. His shop or '' bar " was small but
well filled, exhibiting punch-bowls on a shelf, a little gilt Bacchus sitting across
a barrel, a bunch of grapes of impossible dimensions, and a sign-board creaking
on its hinges outside. But now how great is the change ! We are first dazzled
with the splendid gas-lamps ranged on the outside of the house, and shedding a
ray of surpassing brilliancy (there was a public-house, three or four years ago,
whose exterior exhibited a lamp ten feet high, containing seventy jets of gas!).
When we come nearer we see that the interior is fully as brilliant as the exterior :
elegantly-formed branches ^of pipes descend from the ceiling, or ascend from the
counter, and yield a vast number of gas-flames. The bar-furniture, such as coun-
* < London :' « Street Sights" and " Street Noises."
390
LONDON.
ters, beer-machines, spirit-machines, are all of the finest workmanship and
highest polish ; while behind the counter, instead of the jolly Boniface of old, we
see smartly-dressed females, dispensing the pennyworths or small quantities of
liquor. It may be that a man or a boy draws the malt-liquor; but the chances are
ten to one that one of the other sex — though strange it may seem — is serving
those small portions of the burning liquid which so often bring ruin as their
attendants. There is one feature in a modern public-house for which our times
need not be envied : in front of the counter are the ragged, the depraved, the
impoverished, spending perhaps their last penny for gin, and cursing and quar-
relling under the influence of the inebriation which it brings. It is, however,
only fair to bear in mind that this is not a feature of all these houses : some de-
rive the chief part of their business from serving families with beer, and such are,
though much less splendid, much better ordered, than the real *' gin-palaces."
To arrive at something like a general rule, we may say that those public-houses
which are situated in or near the lowest dens of poverty, such as Seven Dials,
Whitechapel, and some spots on the south of the river, have been becoming
more and more splendid every year ; while those situated near the squares and
private streets have a decent air of respectability about them, as far removed
from the desolating splendour of the former, as from the hearty jollity of the olden
taverns.
[Kerable Tavern, Bow Street, Long Acre.]
I LONDON SHOPS AND BAZAARS. 391
I The Bakers* and the Chemists' shops are among those which have adopted the
luxury of plate-glass windows and bright gas-lamps. Twenty years ago most of
the bakers' shops had small flat windows, and were very modestly lighted in the
I evening by a lamp or two : the baker, with his woollen cap on his head, stood behind
the counter rasping his loaves and rolls ; while his wife, a plain, decent body, served
the '' quarterns " and "half- quarterns." But now the window displays its large
squares of plate-glass, its brightly-blazing gas-jets, and its long array of neat trays
(filled with biscuits, whose shape would defy Euclid. The Chemists, or, as they
ought more properly to be called, the Druggists, have made a notable advance
in shop-architecture and arrangements. Most London walkers will remember the
time when the large red, and green, and yellow bottles, shedding a ghastly light
on the passer-by, were the chief indications of the presence of a Druggist's shop ;
but now the plate-glass window exhibits a most profuse array of knick-knacks,
not only such as pertain to '' doctors' stuff," but lozenges, perfumery, soda-water
powders, &c. ; while the well-dressed shopmen or " assistants" within — one of the
most lowly- paid class of respectable persons in London — ply their avocation of
semi-chemists and semi-shopmen.
The Butchers' shops are pretty nearly what butchers' shops have always been :
they have undergone but little change. They are still open shops, with their
stout counters, provided with bins underneath for containing salt-meat, their huge
chopping-blocks, their rows of hooks whereon to hang the meat, their rough floors
covered with saw-dust, and their window-board next the street. A sash-window to
a butcher's shop would be quite a solecism ; but still there are at the west-end of the
town symptoms of smartness and cleanliness to which the east makes no pretensions.
The Grocers' shops — not the Greengrocers, for they remain open-fronted shops,
as they v/ere in former days, and in many cases exhibit the same heap of coals in
one corner, to be sold in pecks or pen'orths — have advanced in the march of im-
provement. The grocer is no longer content to place a solitary box of raisins, a
chest which may or may not contain tea, and a few other articles, in his window.
He has his extensive prairie of moist sugar, crossed with rivulets of preserved
lemon-peel ; his samples of tea are contained in elegant little polished vases,
guarded by mandarins in splendid attire ; his coffee is exhibited in various states
and qualities ; he has a highly polished steam-engine in his window, to imply that
he sells so much coffee that he must have steam power to grind it; his loaves of
white sugar are broken in half, to show that they are not " dummies," and that
they have the right crystalline grain ; and he does not fail to inform you that he
has taken advantage of the recent intelligence from China to m^ake extensive
ready-money purchases, by which he can sell tea lower than his neighbours. His
shop is redolent of plate-glass and gas-lights, and is altogether an attractive affair.
There are, however, a few old establishments in this line whose celebrity renders
these showy displays unnecessary ; and there are also two or three new ones which
command a large business by advertising rather than by shop-window display.
The shops devoted to the sale of wearing apparel are, however, the most
remarkable in London. The principle of competition has been driven further in
the drapery business than in most others, and hence the linen-drapers' shops
exhibit the effects which this competition produces more strikingly perhaps than
most others. The rise of the cotton manufacture in England has had much to
392 LONDON. I
do with this matter ; for when woollen fabrics were the staple of English dress,
the comparative costliness prevented any very eager competition, and the fabrics
themselves were not of so showy a character. It is true the mercer had attractive
silken goods to display in his window ; but the immense consumption of cotton in
female dress has been the chief moving power towards the production of the pre-
sent remarkable display in the drapers' shops. The mills, the labour, the capital
employed in this manufacture have led to so large a production that the manu-
facturer is anxious to *^ do business" in any quarter, and this anxiety leads to a
constant increase in the number of retail shops.
To whatever part of London we direct our steps, we shall find that the
Drapers' shops — including in this term those which sell cotton, linen, silk, and
worsted goods — are among the handsomest. We may commence a tour from the
East, and we shall find it everywhere pretty nearly alike ; that is, in the busy
streets, for in the by-streets the shops of this kind, what few there are, are of a
much humbler description. In Whitechapel and other wide thoroughfares at
the east end, the goods exposed in these windows are generally rather of a hum-
ble and cheap kind ; but the windows are nevertheless glazed with plate-glass,
and lighted with a profusion of gas-jets, such as only the gin-palaces can equal.
On approaching Aldgate we find, among many shops of this character, one for
the sale of garments for the male sex ; and a most extraordinary shop it is, for
it may be said to reach from the ground to the roof, every story being fronted
with plate-glass, and filled with goods. From Aldgate to St. Paul's, whether we
go by way of Fenchurch Street and Lombard Street, or Leadenhall Street and
Cornhill, the shops of this character are not particularly observable ; but when
we arrive at St. Paul's Churchyard we come to a very world of show. Here we
find a shop whose front presents an uninterrupted mass of glass from the ceiling
to the ground ; no horizontal sash bars being seen, and the vertical ones made of
brass. Here, too, we see on a winter's evening a mode of lighting recently intro-
duced, by which the products of combustion are given off in the street, instead of
being left to soil the goods in the window : the lamps are fixed outside the shop,
with a reflector so placed as to throw down a strong light upon the commodities
in the window.
We may then enter Ludgate Street and Ludgate Hill — a street which was once
said to contain finer shops than any other street in London, and which still main-
tains an equality, if not a superiority. Here we find a shop which was one of the first
to adopt the expedient of giving brilliancy and apparent vastness by clothing wall
and ceiling with looking-glass, and causing these to reflect the light from rich cut-
glass chandeliers. Farther on we meet with a shop which, not having the means of
being so bulky as its neighbours, resolved to make amends by soaring to a double
height. This was the first shop in London, as far as we are aware, in which the
first floor was taken to form part of the shop itself, and one window carried up to
the double height. That the goods are finely displayed by this method
there can be no doubt ; but its excellence as a point of shop architecture is
another matter. A writer in the ' Westminster Review,' about two years ago,
while condemning the excessive use of plate-glass in shop-windows, since it
*' serves only to produce the effect of a vast gap or vacuum, and take away all
appearance of support to the upper part of the house," alludes to this shop on
LONDON SHOPS AND BAZAARS.
393
Ludgate Hill^ and remarks that " the door being set back and the window on
each side curved convexly inwards, the whole front becomes a recess ; but as
ithere are no pillars of any kind to support the horizontal architrave or bressumer
carried across it, the upper part of the house seems to stand in need of some prop.
What serves not a little to increase, in this instance, the gap-like look and
[appearance of chasm below is, that it is rendered so strikingly conspicuous by the
ishop-front being carried up the height of two floors, and made to consist almost
entirely of glass." The architecture answers its purpose and defies criticism.
Pursuing our journey through Fleet Street and the Strand, or in a northern
route through Holborn and Oxford Street, we pass numerous and splendid speci-
jmens of this kind of shop, especially in Oxford Street, where some of the shops
present an el^ance of design more strictly correct, perhaps, than those already
I mentioned. /Regent Street then offers its display, and, taken from one end to
ithe other, exhibits a larger number of brilliant shops than any other street in
I London; for the drapers and mercers only share with other tradesmen the pos-
! session of brilliantly -lighted and elegantly-fitted " emporiums. " At the southern
lend of the Quadrant is a shop which has attracted much attention for its decora-
kive character. It was thus spoken of in the ' Companion to the Almanac' for
1841 : — ^^ As an architectural composition it possesses considerable merit, pre-
senting the appearance of sufficient solidity and strength, and not looking as if
likely to be crushed by the upper part of the house ; for, though spacious, the
windows are of lofty upright proportions and arched, besides which, there is some
substance in the piers to which the columns supporting those arches are attached;
and where the angle of the building is curved off, that space presents a broad
solid pier ; not, however, one that produces a blank in the composition, it being
394 LONDON.
sufficiently enriched with panelling." A shop at the corner of Berners Street ir^
Oxford Street^ and erected about the same time as the one just noticed, has alsci
attracted much attention. We may go in almost any direction — in Bond Streeti
among the aristocracy ; in Tottenham Court Road, the Westminster Road, or thci
Borough Road, among humbler districts — and we shall everywhere find specij
mens, more or less splendid, of drapers' and mercers' shops. I
Nor is the method of conducting business at these shops less remarkable than
their appearance. Everything is on the '"high-pressure" system of competition ;
and many of the most notable changes in shop arrangements have originated
there. At one time well-shaped gilt letters written on the facia over the window
sufficed ; but they have been nearly superseded by letters carved in wood and
then gilt, or by letters cast in porcelain or glass, and decorated or partly gilt.
Then, as well-shaped letters may be feared to attract no notice, others have been
invented which shall seduce by their oddness. Some are very thick and short;
some thin and lofty ; some have thick strokes where there ought to be thin, and
vice versa ; some are represented perspectively, as if standing one behind another
like a file of soldiers ; some follow each other verticall}^ up the front of the house;!
and in one instance that Ave have seen, the letters are placed upside down. If,
instead of looking at the inscription over the window, we read those in the win-
dow, we are led almost to believe that man was made to fatten on the misfortunes
of his fellow-man : — " dreadful conflagration," '" awful inundation," " manufac-
turing distress," " ruinous sacrifice," '* bankruptcy" — are the written horrors which
stare the reader in the face, and which are intended to make them believe that
those misfortunes happening to other men have been the means of enabling the
shopkeeper to sell countless thousands of bales of goods at per yard — of
course, 50 per cent, under what the raw materials cost. One would think that
the joke had become a stale one, that it had been worn to death by such
constant usage ; but there still seem to be persons willing to be deceived.
There are also numberless little catchwords to attract the notice of the passer-
by : such as '' Look here ! ' —'' Stop ! "— " Tariff! " — " Income-tax ! " — '' Given
away ! " — '' Sale closes to-day ! " &c. : anything, in short, which may make the
rapid walker stay his, or her, pace. The price of a commodity, too, may be so
ticketed as to deceive a reader : thus, two guineas, by a dexterous smallness in the
£, may look remarkably like twenty- two shillings. It is only fair to admit,
however, that so far as the linen-drapery business is concerned, the higher class
of shops do not push this system to so great an extent as those of humble rank.
Still the practice is so far general as to constitute a marked feature in retail
trade, and to furnish a fair source of reflection on the commercial causes which
have led to so keen a spirit of competition. There may be individual instances of
competition, apart from that which constitutes a general system ; and Defoe, in
his ' Complete Tradesman,' very clearly expresses the varieties of these. He says
there are three kinds of under-sellers ; viz. young tradesmen newly set up, who
undersell their neighbours to get a trade ; rich old tradesmen who have over-
grown stocks, and who undersell to keep their trade ; and poor tradesmen, who
are obliged to sell low to get money. Defoe makes some judicious remarks on all
of these points, and says, " I have seen a brewer in a country town, when another
has set up near him, sell all his beer two or three shillings per barrel cheaper.
LONDON SHOPS AND BAZAARS. 395
I
I
i purpose to break the new comer, and carry it on till he has brewed himself a
'lousand pounds out of pocket; and when the other, being overcome, and, per-
ps, almost broken, has given it over, then he has raised his price four or five
killings per barrel, till he has made himself whole again, and then go on upon
level as before/* Is not this picture as applicable now as it was a century and
half ago ?
Many of the particulars into which we have here entered apply to other trades
well as to drapers, in respect both to shop arrangements and to systems of
usiness. The tailors* shops, no longer the open " fripperies" of former times,
ave their plate-glass windows, and an air of elegance about them ; and if we
onder how any human waists can bear the smallness of the coats in the windows,
l^e may be satisfied by knowing that they are only ideal waists, made for the
ccasion. The hatters have made quite as great a stride as the tailors, and now
resent shops as smart as most others. We may often see a bright pair of scales
b the window, to show that the hat only weighs a certain number of ounces ; and
[»y the side of this a glass globe, containing water, on which a hat swims, to show
liow impervious is the waterproof with which it has been stiffened. Then the
Is, 9d. is placed so temptingly before the eye of the passenger, that he cannot
hoose but see it. The bootmakers are another class whose shops exhibit the
lanciful arrangements of modern times. The well-polished boots, with arched
bsteps, pointed toes, and high heels, and named after the great and the noble —
|i¥ellington, Blucher, Clarence, Albert— are set off to the best advantage, while
hoes are interspersed among them here and there; and though it may seem to
mply a want of gallantry to place all the ladies' shoes on one side of the window
■md the gentlemen's on the other, there is doubtless good reason for the arrange-
nent.
Almost endless would be the task of enumerating the fine and elegant shops
)resented to view in the streets of London, and the dazzling array of commodities
lisplayed in the windows. The furnishing ironmonger sets off his polished grates,
'enders, candlesticks, &c., to the best advantage ; the cabinetmaker, with his
French-polished mahogany and his chintz furniture, does his best to tempt the
passer-by ; the tobacconist, abandoning the twisted clay-pipes and the pigtail
itobacco of former days, displays his elegant snuff-boxes, cigar-cases, meerschaums,
and hookahs ; the perfumer decks his windows with waxen ladies looking ineffably
sweet, and gentlemen whose luxuriant moustaches are only equalled by the rosy
hue of their cheeks, and oils, creams, and cosmetics from Circassia, Macassar, &c.
—nominally, at least ; and so on throughout the list of those who supply the wants,
real and imaginary, of purchasers. But there are, besides these shops, two or
three classes of establishments which occupy distinct and separate positions in
'respect to the mode in which sales and purchases are made ; such as bazaars
land general dealers, which merit our notice.
I A modern English bazaar is, after all, not a genuine representative of the
icTass. It is a mingled assemblage of sundry wares rather than wares of one kind.
The markets of London might more fittingly claim the designation of bazaars, in
respect to the class of commodities sold in each. Gay, writing above a century
ago, says, —
396 LONDON.
" Shall the large mutton smoke upon your boards ?
Such Newgate's copious market best affords ;
Wouldst thou with mighty beef augment thy meal?
Seek Leadenhall : St. James's sends thee veal !
Thames Street gives cheeses ; Covent Garden fruits ;
Moorfields old books ; and Monmouth Street old suits/'
This, which in some of the items is applicable to our own day, represents the
true bazaar principle of the East. However, as our bazaars are retail shops, we
will take a rapid glance at them.
The Soho Bazaar stands at the head of its class. It was founded many yearsi
ago by a gentleman of some notoriety, and has been uniformly a well-managed
concern. It occupies several houses on the north-west corner of Soho Square, and
consists of stalls or open counters ranged on both sides of aisles or passages, on
two separate floors of the building. These stalls are rented by females, who pay,
we believe, something between two and three shillings per day for each. The
articles sold at these stalls are almost exclusively pertaining to the dress and
personal decoration of ladies and children ; such as millinery, lace, gloves, jewel
lery, &c. ; and, in the height of '' the season," the long array of carriages drawn
up near the building testifies to the extent of the visits paid by the high-born
and the wealthy to this place. Some of the rules of the establishment are very
stringent. A plain and modest style of dress, on the part of the young females who
serve at the stalls, is invariably insisted on, a matron being at hand to superin-
tend the whole ; every stall must have its wares displayed by a particular hour
in the morning, under penalty of a fine from the renter; the rent is paid day by
day, and if the renter be ill, she has to pay for the services of a substitute, the
substitute being such an one as is approved by the principals of the establish-
ment. Nothing can be plainer or more simple than the exterior of this bazaar,
but it has all the features of a well-ordered institution.
The Pantheon Bazaar is a place of more show and pretensions. It was originally
a theatre, one of the most fashionable in London ; but having met with the discom-
fitures which have befallen so many of our theatres, it remained untenanted for many
years, and was at length entirely remodelled and converted into a bazaar. When
we have passed through the entrance porch in Oxford Street, we find ourselves in
a vestibule, containing a few sculptures, and from thence a flight of steps lead
up to a range of rooms occupied as a picture gallery. These pictures, which are
in most cases of rather moderate merit, are placed here for sale, the proprietors
'of the bazaar receiving a commission or per centage on any picture which may
find a purchaser. From these rooms an entrance is obtained to the gallery, or
upper-floor of the toy-bazaar, one of the most tasteful places of the kind in
London. We look down upon the ground story, from this open gallery, and find
it arranged with counters in a very systematical order, loaded with uncountable
trinkets. On one counter are articles of millinery ; on another lace ; on a third
gloves and hosiery ; on others cutlery, jewellery, toys, children's dresses, children's
books, sheets of music, albums and pocket-books, porcelain ornaments, cut-glass
ornaments, alabaster figures, artificial flowers, feathers, and a host of other things,
principally of a light and ornamental character. Each counter is attended by a
young female, as at the Soho Bazaar. On one side of the toy-bazaar is an aviary,
LONDON SHOPS AND BAZAARS. 397
upplied with birds for sale in cages; and adjacent to it is a conservatory
/here plants are displayed in neat array.
The Pantechnicon is a bazaar for the sale of larger commodities. It is situated
in the immediate vicinity of Belgrave Square, and occupies two masses of build-
ng on the opposite sides of a narrow street. Carriages constitute one of the
)rincipal classes of articles sold at this bazaar: they are ranged in a very Ion o-
milding, and comprise all the usual varieties, from the dress carriage to the light
^ig, each carriage having its selling price marked on a ticket attached to it.
\nother department is for the sale of furniture, and consists of several long rooms
)r galleries filled with pianofortes, tables, chairs, sideboards, chests of drawers,
)edsteads, carpets, and all the varied range of household furniture, each article,
is in the former case, being ticketed with its selling price. There is a '* wine
lepartment" also, consisting of a range of dry vaults for the reception and dis-
play of wines. The bazaar contains likewise a *' toy-department ;" but this is
lot so extensive as those noticed in the preceding paragraphs.
The Baker Street Bazaar bears some resemblance to the Pantechnicon, inas-
.nuch as it contains a large array of carriages for sale. But it has somewhat
[fallen off from its original character; for it was opened as a " horse bazaar" for
the sale, among other things, of horses. Horses are, we believe, no longer ex-
Iposed here for sale ; and the chief commodities displayed are carriages, harness,
ifiorse-furniture and accoutrements, furniture, stoves, and *' furnishing ironmon-
gery.*' The " wax-work" and the " artificial ice" are exhibitions no way con-
lected with the bazaar other than occupying a portion of the too-extensive
ipremises.
There is, in the upper part of the Gray's Inn Road, a building called the
jNorth London Repository, which gained some kind of celebrity a few years ago
as a locality where the principle of *' labour-exchange" was put to the test.
Every article sold had a price fixed upon it, such as would afford sixpence per
hour for the time and labour of the artificer who made it, and this was to be bar-
tered for some other article priced in a similar way. The scheme was an utter
^failure ; and the building appropriated to it has been since converted into a kind
of furniture and carriage depct, or bazaar.
If the Burlington or Lowther Arcades contained shops of one kind only, they
would bear a closer resemblance to the Oriental bazaars than any other places
in London ; for they are arranged in the long vaulted manner which pictures
represent those of the East to be; but they contain paper-hangers, bootmakers,
book and print sellers, music-sellers, besides toy-sellers and others. The Lowther
Bazaar, opposite to the Lowther Arcade, is simply a large shop, carried on by
one owner, but decked out with a variety of fanciful wares. The Opera Colon-
nade was once somewhat of a bazaar; but it has been shorn of many of its
attractions, and is a spiritless affair.
Next let us glance at the shops where commodities having already rendered
service to one set of purchasers are exposed to the view of a second, or perhaps a
third. The pawnbroker, the dealer in marine stores, the common broker, the
" old-iron shop," — these are terms which point to our meaning. As to the multi-
farious articles displayed in the window of a pawnbroker, they have had a proba-
tion of a year and a day, and have been brought from the hidden recesses of the
398 LONDON. '
pawnbroker's store-room again to see the light. Each article — whether it be
telescope, a gown, a pair of pistols, a coat, a watch, a Bible — has its own tale
sorrow and poverty, and is suggestive of reflection on the ruinous rate of interei
and loss at which the poor borrow money. '
But a more remarkable class of such shops includes those which are common i
known as "brokers' shops," and which contain almost every imaginable kind (|
commodity. Let a pedestrian walk through Monmouth Street and St. Andrew
Street, the New Cut, or any other part of London in a dense and poor neighbou
hood, and observe the motley assemblage of articles, some good enough, but m
in general requisition, some useful, but shabby, some to all appearance useles
yet all for sale, and he will acquire a general notion of the miscellaneous natur
of the lower class of shop trading. Old furniture shops, or curiosity shops, sue
as we find in Wardour Street, are a new species — and amongst the most interestj
ing. Humbler collections of curiosities are to be found in Monmouth Street, Slj
Andrew's Street, and the New Cut. We cannot, however, mention Monmoutll
Street without thinking of its array of second-hand clothing. Gay spoke of i|
more than a century ago, and it remains the same in principle to the presenj
day. As fashions change, so does the cut of the garments in Monmouth Stree
change; but the dealers never change : they are the same people, actuated bi
the same motives, trafficking on the same system, as in by- gone days. In mj
other part of London is the use of cellar-shops so conspicuous as in Monmoutl]
Street. Every house has its cellar, to which access is gained by a flight of step^j
from the open street ; and every cellar is a shop, mostly for the sale of second
hand boots and shoes, which are ranged round the margin of the entrance:
while countless children — noisy, dirty, but happy brats — are loitering within and
without.
Holywell Street, in the Strand, and Field Lane, near Saffron Hill, are two othei
places where second-hand garments are exposed for sale. The former still main-
tains a character given to it long ago, that a passenger needs all his resolution to
prevent being dragged into the shops whether he will or no ; so importunate are
the entreaties by which he is invited to buy a bran-new coat, or a splendid waist-
coat. Field Lane has a reputation somewhat more equivocal. Its open un-
sashed windows are loaded with silk handkerchiefs, displayed in dazzling array;
and if it be asked how they all came there, we may perhaps arrive at an answer
by solving the following police-problem : given, the number of handkerchiefs
picked from pockets in the course of a year, to find the number exposed for sale
in Field Lane in an equal period. In the immediate vicinity of Drury Lane is
another curious assemblage of shops for the sale of old commodities : a small
street is occupied almost entirely by open shops or stalls belonging to " piece-
brokers," who purchase old garments, and cut out from them such pieces as may
be sound enough to patch up other garments ; whereby a market is furnished
which supplies many a "jobbing" tailor.
A word or two respecting the daily economy of London shops. It is curious
to mark the symptoms of the waking of huge London from its nightly sleep.
Stage-coach travellers, unless where driven to a new system by railroads, have
often means of observing this waking when entering or leaving London at a
very early hour. There is an hour— after the fashionables have left their balls
LONDON SHOPS AND BAZAARS. 399
[and parties, the rakes have reached their houses, and the houseless wanderers
have found somewhere to lay their heads, but before the sober tradesmen begin
the day's labour — when London is particularly still and silent. Had we written
this a year ago, we might have had to allude to the poor sooty boy's shrill cry of
'* Sweep!" but we may now only speak of the early breakfast-stalls, the early
milkmen, and a few others, whose employment takes them into the street at an
early hour. Very few shops indeed, even in the height of summer, are opened
before six o'clock ; but at that hour the apprentices and shopmen may be seen
taking down the shutters from the windows. Time has been when these shutters
lid in grooves at the top and bottom of the window, but they now rest on a
well-polished brass sill at the bottom, and are fastened with much neatness.
The splendour of modern shops has in some cases reached to the shutters
themselves, which are highly polished, and not unfrequently figured and de-
corated with gold ; while in the recently-constructed windows of large dimen-
sions sliding shutters of sheet-iron are occasionally used. When the shutters,
whatever be their kind, are taken down, we soon see busy indications of
cleansing operations going on ; how sedulously the glass is Aviped, the floor
swept, the counters dusted, let the busy apprentice tell. Then comes the
shopman or the master, who lays out in the window the goods intended to
be displayed that day. Some trades, it is true, allow the goods to remain in
the window all night; but in many the shop-window is cleared every evening,
again to be filled the next morning. There is singular art and dexterity
displayed in this part of the day's proceedings, in laying out the commodities
in the most attractive form, especially in the mercers' and drapers' shops. Then,
hour after hour, as the streets become gradually filled with walkers and riders,
the shopkeeper prepares to receive his customers, whose hours of purchasing de-
pend greatly on the nature of the commodities purchased ; the baker has most
trade in the morning and afternoon, the butcher and the greengrocer in the fore-
noon, the publican at noon and in the evening, and so on. In occupations relating
to the sale of provisions, a small number of persons can transact a tolerably
large trade ; but in the drapery line the number of hands is remarkably large,
there being some of these establishments in which the shopmen, clerks, cashiers,
&c. amount to from fifty to a hundred. One of these, called the "shop-walker,"
has a singular office to fill : his duty being to " walk the shop," with a view
to see who enters it, and to point out to them at what counter, or at what part of
,the counter, they may be served with the particular commodity required.
As the evening comes on, the dazzling jets of gas become kindled in one shop
after another, till our principal streets have a brilliancy rivalling that of day.
The evening-walkers are often a different class from the mid-day walkers, and
make purchases of a different kind : some, too, seem to expect that shops shall be
kept open for their accommodation till nine, ten, or eleven o'clock, while others
uniformly close at seven or eight o'clock. This question of shop-shutting has
been a subject of much discussion lately ; the shopmen to drapers, druggists, and
many other retail traders, having urged the justice of terminating the daily busi-
ness at such a time as will leave them an hour or two for relaxation or reading.
This does not seem to be unreasonable ; but, at the same time, a little caution
400
LONDON.
seems to be needful in carrying the plan into practice, since the convenience!
of the purchasers, in respect to the hours at which they make their purchases, i
must always be an element to be considered.
,/ That some streets should be exclusively private, while others are as exclusively |
occupied by shopkeepers, is a system for which there is good and sufficient rea-
son. It is, in fact, one mode of exemplifying the bazaar-system, in which, when
purchases are to be made, a saving''of time is effected by congregating the sellers
near together. The sellers, too, serve each other, and each thrives by the aid
of his neighbour. The sketch which Defoe, in his ' Complete Tradesman,' made
of matters as they existed in 1727, will, with a few modifications, apply to our own
day as well : — " The people grow rich by' the people ; they support one another ;
the tailor, the draper, the mercer, the coachmaker, &c., and their servants, all
haunt the public-houses, the masters to the taverns, the servants to the ale-
houses, and thus the vintner and the victualler grow rich. Those again, getting
before-hand with the world, must have fine clothes, fine houses, and fine furni-
ture ; their wives grow gay, as the husbands grow rich, and they go to the draper,
the mercer, the tailor, the upholsterer, &c., to buy fine clothes and nice goods;
thus the draper, and mercer, and tailor grow rich too ; money begets money,
trade circulates, and the tide of money flows in with it ; one hand washes the
other hand, and both hands wash the face."
[Pantheon Haz.iar.j
LONDON
EDITED BY CHARLES KNIGHT.
VOLUME VI.
The New Royal Exchange.
PUBLISHED BY CHAELES KNIGHT & CO., LUDGATE STREET.
1844.
London .--Printed by William Clowes & Sons, Stamford Street.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME VI.,
WITH
THE NAMES OF THE AUTHORS OF EACH PAPER.
CXXVI.
CXXVII.-
CXXVIII.-
CXXIX.
cxxx.
CXXXI.
CXXXIL-
CXXXIII.-
CXXXIV.-
; cxxxv.
CXXXVI.-
[CXXXVII.
IXXXYIII.-
CXXXIX.
CXL.
CXLI.
CXLII.
CXLIII.
CXLIV.
CXLV.-
CXLVI.
CXLVII.
CXLVIII.
CXLIX.
CL.
-EDUCATION IN LONDON.— ANCIENT
-EDUCATION IN LONDON.— MODERN
-THE OLD JEWRY
-OLD TRADING COMPANIES
-PUBLIC STATUES
-THE COLLEGE OF ARMS ....
-HOUSES OF THE OLD NOBILITY
-BUCKINGHAM AND OLD WESTMINSTER
PALACES
J. Saunders
j> •
W. Weir .
J. C. Platt
J. Saunders
J. R. Planche
W. Weir .
J. Saunders
-WESTMINSTER HALL AND THE NEW
HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT
—THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW
—THE BRITISH MUSEUM ....
—MUSIC
—THE SQUARES OF LONDON
-THE STATIONERS' COMPANY
—BILLS OF MORTALITY
—THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND THE
SOANE MUSEUM
—THE METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS
—EXHIBITIONS OF ART
—THE STOCK EXCHANGE . . . .
—RAILWAY TERMINI
—MILITARY LONDON
—CHARITIES OF LONDON ....
— TATTERSALLS
—LEARNED SOCIETIES
—COURTS OF LAW ......
F. W. Fairholt
J. Saunders
W. Weir .
J. Saunders
J. C. Platt .
J. Saunders
J. C. Platt
J. Saunders
J. Bowman & J. C
J. Saunders
J. C. Platt & J.
W. Weir .
J. Saunders
J. C. Platt
Platt
Saunders
Page
1
17
33
49
65
81
97
113
129
145
161
177
193
209
225
241
257
273
289
305
321
337
353
369
385
a 2
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS OF VOL. Vl.
CXXVI.— EDUCATION IN LONDON.
No. I. — Ancient.
Page
1
1
2
ree School at Westminster in the reign of the
Confessor ,.....«
igulphus and Queen Edgitha .
irst mention of the University of Oxford .
uo-ustin the presumed Founder of the Schools
at Canterbury ...... 2
ichools in London in the Seventh Century • 2
Ireland the chief Seat of European Learning
during the Seventh and two or three following
Centuries ....... 2
Idhelm's Complaint of the emigration of Stu-
dents to Ireland ...... 2
Lccount given by Alcuin of what he learnt and
taught at the School at York ... 2
)ecay of Learning in the Ninth Century • . 3
restoration of the Principal Schools in the Reign
of Alfred ....... 3
ichool for the Sons of the Nobility founded by
Alfred ....... 3
)ecline of Education in the Period from the
Reign of Alfred to that of the Confessor . . 4
■'itz-Stephen's Account of the Schools of London
in the Reigns of Stephen and Henry II. . 4
?hree Principal Schools mentioned by Fitz-
Stephen ....... 4
ewish School in London in the Twelfth Century 5
•dumber of Students at Oxford at the Beginning
of the Fourteenth Century .... 5
iuality of the Education at Oxford and Paris in
1 the Fourteenth Century .... 5
yhaucer's Character of the Clerk in the * Canter-
1 bury Tales ' ...... 6
iChe Schools of London attached, probably exclu-
sively, to the Religious Houses ... 6
Grammar Schools appointed by Henry VI. . 7
jrrammar School founded by John Neil in 1456 . 7
Effect of the Reformation in England upon Edu-
I cation .••..». 7
Irhe Grammar Schools of England mostly founded
in the Sixteenth Century .... 7
Dean Colet, the Founder of the Earliest of the
Schools of London ..... 7
Dislike entertained towards Dean Colet by the
Metropolitan Clergy . . . . 8
Friendship between Colet and Sir Thomas More 8
Friendship of Erasmus and Dean Colet . . 8
\necdote of Erasmus and Colet ... 9
Page
9
9
Particulars given by Erasmus of the Domestic
Life of Colet ......
Foundation of St. Paul's School by Colet in 1509
The Trust of St. Paul's School committed ^by
Colet to the Company of Mercers ... 9
Lily appointed Head Master of St. Paul's School
by Colet 10
St. Paul's School at the present day . . ,10
Eminent Men educated at St. Paul's School . 10
The Mercers* School originally a part of the Hos-
pital of St. Thomas of Aeon's , . .11
Increase in 1804 and 1809 of the number of
Scholars at the Mercers' School . . .11
Foundation of Merchant Tailors' School in 1561 . 11
Eminent Persons educated at Merchant Tailors'
School 12
Practical Rules drawn up by the Founders of St.
Saviour's School ...... 12
St. Olave's one of the most valuable of Metropo-
litan Schools . . . . , .12
Increase in the Funds of St. Olave's School • 12
The Establishment of St. Olave's divided into two
Schools ....... 12
Westminster historically the most important of
the Schools of London . • , . .13
Quarrel between Drs. Busby and Bagshawe • 13
Severity of Dr. Busby . . . . ,13
Anecdote in reference to the wit of Dr. Busby . 13
Camden appointed Head Master of Westminster
School in 1592 . . . ' . . .14
Dr. Busby succeeded by Dr. Friend as Head
Master of Westminster School . . .14
Distinguished Men educated at Westminster
School ....... 14
Curious points in the management of Westminster
School ....... 14
Mode of Election at Westminster School . .15
Annual Performance of the Plays of Terence at
Westminster . . • . . .15
Scenery for Westminster School prepared under
the direction of David Garrick . . .16
Expense of education at Westminster School . 16
Decline of late years in the prosperity of West-
minster School . . . . . .16
Increase about to be made to the power and in-
fluence of Westminster School • • .16
I. St. Olave's School
St. Paul's School, St. Paul's
before the Fire of London .
3. Merchant Tailors' School, Cannon Street
4. Westminster School • .
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Designers.
Engravers.
. ^ • . .
Freeman
BiGGS •
.
1
irchyard, as it appeared
.....
Wells
HOLLOWAY .
•
8
I Street *
Shepherd
Burrows
.
11
.... *
Fair HOLT
Sears .
.
16
VI
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CXXVII.— EDUCATION IN LONDON.
No. II. — Modern.
The Dame Schools of London ....
Anecdote of the Mistress of a provincial Dame
School .......
An English Day School in the Nineteenth Cen-
tury ...,...,
Ignorance of the Masters of the Common Day
Schools of England . • . • .
Report of the Committee of the Statistical Society
on Popular Education in London .
Little estimation in which the Proprietors of
Schools in general hold their Profession.
Inquiry instituted by the Statistical Society into
the state of some of the Parishes of London
Average Number of Persons receiving Education
in the eastern parts of the Metropolis
Report of the Inspector of the British and Foreign
Schools on the state of the Parish of Bethnal
Gr^en .......
Origin of the British and Foreign School, Bo-
rough Road ......
Commencement of the Career of Joseph Lan-
caster .......
Support given to Lancaster by George III. and
the Duke of Bedford .....
Institution in 1813 of the British and Foreign
School Society ... . ' , ,
Mode of Instruction practised in the Institution
in the Borough Road . . , , ,
Normal Seminaries at the Institution in the
Borough Road ......
Education given to the Students at the Normal
Schools .......
Grand evil attending the Normal Schools .
Formation of the National Society for the Educa-
tion of the Poor by Dr. Andrew Bell
Different fortunes of Dr. Bell and Joseph Lan-
caster .......
The Old Sanctuary, Westminster, the Head-
quarters of the National Society
Normal School of the National Society at Stanley
Grove, Chelsea ......
The Poor now likely to be the enjoyers of a
thoroughly genuine Education
Extract from a Letter of the Principal of Stanley
Grove
Page
17
18
18
18
19
19
19
19
20
20
20
20
21
21
21
21
22
22
22
23
23
23
24
Page
of the daily proceedings at Stanley
Account
Grove
Female Training School at Whitelands , ,
The progress of Education entirely depending
upon the progress and efficient management
of the Normal Schools .....
Number of the Metropolitan Schools of the Na-
tional Society ......
Metropolitan Schools of the British and Foreign
Society ....••.
National and Parochial Schools ...
Excellent and practical principles on^ which In-
fant Schools were commenced
First Infant School on a large scale established
by Mr. Owen in 1818
Description by Dr. Kay Shuttleworth of the state
of the Juvenile Pauper Population of Eng-
land .......
School at Norwood formed by Dr. Kay Shuttle-
worth .......
Increase in the number of Workhouse Schools .
Disposal of the Funds annually voted by Parlia-
ment, by the Committee of the Council of
Education .......
System of management in the Schools for the
Poor proposed to be established by Dr. Kay
Shuttleworth ......
Educational Establishments of London belonging
exclusively to the Middle and Higher Classes.
The University of London created by Charter
of William IV
Duties and power of the Senate of the University
of London .......
Examination for Degrees held at the London Uni-
versity .......
Distinctive characteristics of King's College and
University College .....
Power of conferring honours granted to Univer-
sity College in 1836 .....
Average number of Students at the London Uni-
versity .......
King's College founded in 1828 . .
Expenses of a Metropolitan University Education
The City of London School • • . .
ILLUSTRATIONS.
5. British and Foreign School, Borough Road
6. Chapel and Practising School, Stanley Grove, Chelsea
7. Camberwell National Schools . . • . .
8. Infant School, Holloway .....
9. University College, Gower Street . . . .
26
26
261
271
27
27
29
29
29
30
30
30
31
31
31
31
31
32
Designers.
Engravers.
Anelay
Jackson
. 17
Brown
5? •
. 23
B. Sly
MURDON
. 27
5)
HOLLOWAV
. 28
Brown
Jackson
. 32
CXXVIIL— THE OLD JEWRY.
Historical Associations of the Old Jewry . . 33
Murder of Dr. Lambe in the Old Jewry . . 33
House in the Old Jewry in which Thomas-a-
Becket is said to have been born . . .33
Banishment of the Jews from England in the
reign of Edward I. . . . . .34
Straggling remnant of Jews probably existing in
England during the Fourteenth Century . 34
The appearance of the Jews in England towards
the latter end of the Seventeenth Century . 34
Probable limits of the Jewry • • . .
First Synagogue of the Jews in England . .
Extent of the Jewry .....
Burying-place of the Jews in London before their
banishment by Edward I. . . . .
Jewry in the reigns of Henry III. and Ed-
ward I., situated in the Liberties of the
Tower . . . .
Robbery and murder committed in the Eastern
Jewry in the reign of Henry HI. • •
34
34
35
35
35
35
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Paoe
litract from the Records of the Tower relating
to the Eastern Jewry 36
imigration of Jews into England under William
the Conqueror . . . • • .36
races of the Jews in England before the Con-
quest ,,,.,•• 3o
Le City probably the Court-end of London under
the Saxon Monarchs . . . . .36
^neral Massacre of the Jews in London in
1189 37
lie Jews of London sentenced to pay twenty
thousand marks to the King in 1241 , . 37
assacres of the Jews in London in the years
1262 and 1264 37
astruction in 1264 of the Jews' first Synagogue
in London ....... 37
?fuge taken by the Jews and the Pope's Legate
in the Tower in 1266 . . . . .37
le Jews throughout England seized and im-
prisoned in 1278 ... . . 38
iws passed in the reign of Edward I. to restrain
Ithe alleged Usury of the Jews . . .38
:count in the * Parliamentary History of Eng-
land' of the banishment of the Jews from Eng-
jland ........ 38
le ' Jews' Garden ' the only burying-place of the
Jews in England until the year 1 177 . . 39
jjght thrown on the Wealth and Business of the
iiJews in 1158 by Richard de Anesty • • 39
ijie Usury of the Jews of good service to the
jjKingdom ....... 39
Jjarning and Accomplishments of the Jews in
JEngland before their banishment in 1290 . 40
|)l6mical War waged in England between Jewish
and Christian Missionaries in the time of Wil-
liam Rufus . . . . . .40
iissage from Mr. Blunt's ' History of the Jews
|in England ' , . .... 40
Irational Hatred nourished by the English
jagainst the Jews . . , . . .41
0 organised body of Jews in England from the
year 1290 to the year 1655 . . . .41
akspere's 'Shylock' and Marlowe's 'Barnabas' 41
jie Jews of Amsterdam invited by Cromwell to
isettle in England ..... 42
tition of Rabbi Manasseh-Ben-Israel to Crom-
well 42
Vll
Page
Unchanged character of the Jews during the
period of their exile from England . . 43
Conferences of the Council and Ministers of
Cromwell on the subject of the admission of
the Jews into England . , . .43
Pamphlet published by Prynne, opposing the
admission of the Jews into England . . 43
Relinquishment by Cromwell of his project of
admitting the Jews into England . . .44
Synagogue erected in King's Street, Duke*s
Place, in 1656 ...... 44
Rabbi Isaac Usiri succeeded in the Synagogue of
Amsterdam by Manasseh-Ben-Israel . , 44
Death of Manasseh-Ben-Israel in 1657 . . 44
Laudable care taken by the Jews on their first
settlement in England to secure the due cele-
bration of Divine Service . . . .44
School called " The Tree of Life " founded by
the Jews in 1664 44
Reformation of " The Tree of Life " by Moses
Mocatta, Esq.;in 1821 . . . .44
First German Synagogue built in 1691 . .45
The present Portuguese Synagogue in Bevis
Marks built in 1701 . o . . .45
The Hamburgh Synagogue erected in Fenchurch
Street in 1723 45
Attempt to pass a Jewish Naturalisation Bill . 45
Disabilities under which the Jews in London la-
bour ....... 45
The Metropolis of the Jews in London . . 46
Jewish Synagogues in London . . .46
Saturday afternoon in the Jewish quarters of the
Metropolis . . .... 46
The Westminster Jews • . . . .46
Parts of the Metropolis occupied by the wealthy
Jews » . . . . . .46
Charitable Institutions of the Jews in London . 47
Jewish Hospital at Mile End . , . .47
Jewish Schools in London . • . .47
The Jews' College 47
Institutions in London for ministering to the ne-
cessities and comforts of the Jewish Poor . 47
Weekly Papers published by the London Jews . 47
Controversy waging between the British Jews
and the adhei^ents of ' The Association for Pre-
serving Inviolate the Ancient Rites and Cere-
monies of Israel ' ..... 48
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Interior of Synagogue at Great St. Helen's . .
Old Clothesman, from Tempest's ' Cries of London '.
Designers.
Tiffin
Engravers.
Jackson
33
48
CXXIX.— OLD TRADING COMPANIES.
Iruggles in England for Freedom of Trade
Jws enacted by King Hlothaere of Kent .
'immercial State of England during the Thir-
:teenth and Fourteenth Centuries . . .
.! ans supplied by Italian Merchants to the Kings
of England in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth
Centuries .......
anepoly of the Wool Trade in England by the
Italian Merchants .....
le Cistercian Monks the greatest Wool-Mer-
chants in England previous to the year 1314 .
-iglish Merchants excluded from the Wool Trade
|inl390
%ht possessed by the Crown of restricting all
iMercantile Dealings for a time to a certain
place ...,..,
49
50
50
50
51
51
51
51
Fair held at Westminster in 1245 . • .51
Regulations of the Staple . . . .52
Restrictions on Commerce in the Thirteenth and
Fourteenth Centuries ..... 52
Societies of Foreigners in London enjoying im-
portant Commercial Immunities and Advan-
tages .,....«. 53
The German Guildhall . . . . .53
Bishopsgate rebuilt in 1479 at the cost of the Ger-
man Merchants ...... 53
Charter granted in 1505 to the Company of Mer-
chant Adventurers of England . . .53
Dispute in 1551 between the Merchant Adven-
turers and the Merchants of the Steelyard . 54
House occupied by the Merchants of the Steel-
yard closed in 1597 . . . • , 54
vm
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Page
Origin of the Company of Merchant Adventurers 54
Attempt of the Merchant Adventurers to control
the whole Foreign Trade of the country . 54
Bruges in the Fourteenth Century the greatest
resort of Foreign Merchants in Europe . . 55
Antwerp the greatest Commercial Emporium in
Europe after the Middle of the Fifteenth Cen-
tury ........ 55
House of the Merchant Adventurers of England
at Antwerp . . . . . ,55
The spirit of mercantile adventure in England
roused by the Discoveries of the Portuguese
and Spaniards ...... 55
Establishment of Joint-Stock Companies in Eng-
land ....... 55
Expedition in 1553 to discover a North-East
Passage to China . . « . .55
Privileges obtained by Richard Chancellor for
carrying on a Trade with the Muscovites . 55
Trade with E,ussia secured to the Merchant Ad-
venturers by a Charter granted in 1555 . 56
Arrival in England of the first Ambassador from
Kussia ....... 56
Commercial Intercourse with Persia commenced
in 1557 ....... 56
The Trade with Russia, Persia, and the'Caspian
Sea secured to the Merchant Adventurers . 56
Summary by Sir Walter Raleigh of the state of
the English Trade with Russia in 1603 . . 56
Disputes between the Dutch Whalers and the
Company of Merchant Adventurers . . 56
Union of the East India and Russia Companies
for the prosecution of the Whale Fishery . 57
The English Company placed on;' the same foot-
ing as the Dutch by the Czar in 1669 . . 57
The English Factory in Russia . . .57
Charter granted to the Turkey Company in the
Reign of Queen Elizabeth . . . .57
Commercial Operations of the Turkey Company 57
Renewal of the Charter to the Turkey Company
in 1593 58
Charter granted to the Turkey Company by King
James in 1605 . . . . . .58
Dispute between the East India and Turkey
Companies in 1681 . . . . .58
Bill brought into Parliament for abolishing the
privileges of the Turkey Company . .59
Pag
Important changes made in the constitution
of the Turkey Company by an Act passed in
1753
The Turkey Company abolished in 1825 .
Trade to Africa commenced in the Year 1530
The African Company broken up in the reign of
James I. ...... ,
Second African Company formed in 1631 .
Third African Company set on foot in 1662
Formation of a Fourth African Company . ,
Attack on the African Company's Privileges by
the West India Planters and Free Traders
Attempts of the African Company to obtain an
exclusive Charter .....
The African Company in 1750 formed into a re-
gulated Company .....
The African Company abolished in 1821 ,
The Eastland Company ....
Minor Trading Companies existing at different
times .......
The Hudson's Bay Company first incorporated
in 1670 .......
Adventurous life of the servants of the Hudson's
Bay Company ......
Prosecution of the Fur Trade by the French Ca-
nadians .*..•..
Union of the Fur Traders of Canada in 1783,
under the name of the "North- West Com-
pany" .......
Recent acquisition to Geographical Knowledge
made by Messrs. Simpson and Dease
Establishment of Fort William, on Lake Superior
Life of the Fur Traders at Fort William .
Jealousy between the Hudson's Bay and North-
West Companies .....
Open War between the Hudson's Bay and North-
West Companies at the commencement of the
present Century ......
Union of the North-West Company and Hudson's
Bay Company in 1821 ....
Forts of the Hudson's Bay Company .
Number of Furs exported from Canada
Sales of the Hudson's Bay Company in Fenchurch
Street .......
At one time the Use of Furs in England a dis-
tinguishing mark of Rank ....
5i
55
6{
5{
55
6[
6C
6C
6C
60
61
6l|
eij
i
6Ij
\
6l|
62j
62!
621
62
62
63
63
63
63
63
64
ILLUSTRATION.
12. Hudson's Bay Company's House, Fenchurch Street
Designer.
Tiffin
Engraver.
Jackson
49'
CXXX.— PUBLIC STATUES.
The Statue of Charles I. at Charing Cross . 65
Charing Cross the last Resting Place of the Body
of Queen Eleanor . . . , .65
Derivation of the Name of Charing Cross . 66
Statue of Queen Eleanor in Westminster . . 66
Able Men tempted to England by the Taste and
Liberality of Charles I. .... 66
Statue of Charles I. cast in 1633 by Hubert le
Sceur ....... 66
History of Charles I.'s Statue during the Com-
monwealth ...... 66
Restoration of Charles I.'s Statue . . .67
Barbarities committed at the Execution of the
men of the Commonwealth . , . .67
Lampoons against the Government wi'itten by
Andrew Marvell at the restoration of the
Statue of Charles I. . , . . ,67
Equestrian Statue of Charles II. erected by Sir
Robert Vyner ...... 68
Allusions contained in the lampoons of Marvell 68
Yerses by Marvell in the form of a Dialogue
between the statues of Woolchurch and Cha-
ring ........ 68
Statue of James II. at Whitehall . . .69
Character of James II. . . . • .70
Statue in Soho Square • . . . .70
Discussion on the subject of the statue in Soho
Square ....... 70
Statue of William III. in St. James's Square • 11
Reminiscences connected with the equestrian
statue of George I. in Leicester Square . . 71
Warfare between George I. and his Son • . 71
Equestrian Statue of George I. in Grosvenor
Square . . . . . • » 71
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Page
I
!cdote relating to the statue of George II. in
rolden Square •..«..
ue of the Duke of Cumberland in Cavendish
quare .......
bcities committed in the Highlands by the
luke of Cumberland .....
;e for Sculpture in the early Part of the
lighteenth Century .....
ps of Statuaries in Piccadilly . . ,
)ortation of Foreign Artists at the Beginning
f the Eighteenth Century ....
ue of Sir Hans Sloane in the Gardens of the
pothecaries' Company, Chelsea .
Hans Sloane's Benefactions to the Apothe-
iries' Company .....
rks of Bacon, the Sculptor . ,
on's allegorical figure of the Thames in the
curt of Somerset House . . . ,
72
72
72
72
73
73
73
74
74
74
Passage from Cunningham's Life of Bacon
Large proportion of statues by Westmacott
erected in the present Century
Figure of Major Cartwright in Burton Crescent
Evidence of the purity of Cartwright's Intentions
Westmacott's statue of the Duke of Bedford in
Russell Square ...,,,
Statue of Fox in Bloomsbury Square
Observations on the Achilles in the ' Quarterly
Review' .......
Erection of the Achilles in 1822 .
The Duke of York's Column ....
List of the statues of London . . . .
Tablet at Allhallows Church commemorating the
Birth of Milton
Letter of Sir Robert Peel to the Secretary of the
Fine Arts Commission • • • .
Page
75
75
75
75
76
77
77
78
78
78
79
79
ILLUSTRATIONS.
l^fStatue of Charles I., with the unfinished Nelson Testimonial
l^jSir Hans Sloane .....
Pitt's Statue, Hanover Square . •
Statue of Major Cartwright in Burton Crescent
Statue of George Canning
IfStatue of the Moor in Clement's Inn
Designers.
Engravers.
Tiffin
Jackson ,
5J
C. Landseer
3>
Sly
))
>> •
Tiffin
>> •
Jackson
G5
73
76
77
79
80
CXXXL— COLLEGE OF ARMS.
H aids of the Present Day . . • .81
iDrporation of Heralds in 1483 . . .82
Pkessors of Pulteney's Inn until the occupation
pitby the Heralds in 1483 . . . 82
Ruoval of the Heralds to the Hospital of our
ady of Roncival . • . . .82
Dlby House granted to the Heralds in 1555 . 83
Pjjent Heralds' College erected on the Site of
lerby House . • . . . .83
Ir resting Curiosities preserved in the Library
the Heralds' College . . • .83
Ii rior of the Heralds' College . . .84
P itice of the Court of the Earl Marshal in the
iddle ages . . . . . .84
T 3 of Garter King of Arms given by Henry V.
' William Bruges • . . . .84
F t regular Chapter held by the Heralds in a
lUegiate capacity in 1420 . . . .84
Sii ries of the Members of the Heralds' College 85
F 3 and Allowances obtained by the Members
■ the Heralds' College . . . .85
E)luments of the Heralds before the Sixteenth
lentury ....... 85
C :!f Employment of the Heralds after their In-
•rporation ...... 85
A isitation of each County decreed by the Earl
i^arshal ....... 86
Emtial consequence of incorruptible truth in
ie detail of Genealogies . . . .86
Pphase of Armorial distinctions as early as the
ign of Henry YIII 86
Midate circulated in 1536 for the general Regis-
ation of Births and Deaths . . . .86
C(!imission of Yisitation directed to Thomas
awley, in 1555 . . . . . .87
G erally allowed Jurisdiction of the Earl Mar-
jial's Court 87
Ti'dity of the Earl Marshal's Authority ques-
5ned by repeated appeals to the Courts of
ing's Bench and Chancery , . .87
Peculiar Jurisdiction of the Earl Marshal's Court
duly recognised and published . .
Regular Officers of the College of Arms . •
Marked Respect shown by Charles I. to the
Heralds individually .....
Academic Honours accepted by some of the Mem-
bers of the College of Arms in the reign of
Charles I. ......
Cromwell's taste for Pageantry . •
Decline of the Court of Chivalry in the reign of
Charles II. ......
Dissolution of the Court of Chivalry proposed by
Clarendon in 1640 • . . . .
Endeavours made to reconcile the public mind
to the re-establishment of the jurisdiction of
the Court of Chivalry ....
Last cause concerning the Right of Bearing Arms
tried in the Year 1720 ....
Cause between the Scrope and Grosvenor Families
tried in the Court of Chivalry in the reign of
Richard II. ......
Degradation of Sir Francis Michell from the
honour of Knighthood ....
Memoranda of one of the latest Yisitations of the
Heralds .......
Value and importance of authentic and minute
Genealogical Records .....
The Officers of Arms, from the earliest Periods,
the Bearers of Letters and Messages to Sove-
reign Princes and Persons in Authority , ,
The OflBce of bearing important Dispatches trans-
ferred from the Officers of Arms to Persons
appointed by the Secretary of State
The Heralds gradually deprived of all Important
Offices .......
Sixth Article of the admonition given to Heralds
on their creation . . . • •
Eminent Men who have been members of the
College of Arms ......
Birth and Education of Camden . .
b
87
87
88
88
89
89
89
89
89
89
90
90
91
91
92
92
92
93
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Paoe
Camden created Clarencieux King of Arms in
1597
Death of Camden, in 1623 ....
Birth of Sir William Dugdale in 1605
Offices in the College of Arms held by Sir William
Dugdale .....*.
Elias Ashmole . . . .
Birth and Education of John Anstis .
Works of John Anstis .....
Francis Sandford's Genealogical * History of
England' .......
Francis Sandford admitted into the College of
Arms at the Restoration . . • •
93
93
93
93
93
94
94
94
94
The Office of Clarencieux King of Arms pre-
sented to Sir John Vanbrugh for his services
as an architect ......
Situation in the College of Arms obtained by
Francis Grose ......
Edmund Lodge created Lancaster Herald in.
1793
Sir William Betham the only Officer of Arms now
living whose Name is connected with British
Literature .......
List of Heralds who have written on their own
science only . . . . . ,
ILLUSTRATIONS.
19. Cold Harbour
20. Heralds' College, Exterior of
21. Heralds' College, Interior of
Designers.
Engravers.
Brown
Jackson
»
ft
»
»
CXXXII.—HOUSES OF THE OLD NOBILITY.
Aristocratic Mansions in London to which asso-
ciations of social or public history cling . 98
City Residences of the Aristocracy ... 98
House in Silver Street belonging* to the Neville
Family 98
The Erber 98
House of the Dowager Duchess of York, in the
Parish of St. Peter's Parva, Paul's Wharf . 98
Occupation of Crosby House by Richard HI.
when Duke of Gloucester .... 99
Passage from Sir Thomas More's ' Pittiful Life
of King Edward the Fifth' ... 99
Palace at the End of Crooked Lane supposed to
have been the Residence of Edward the Black
Prince ....... 99
Winchester House and Gardens ... 99
Noblemen's Houses in the Ward of Castle Bay-
nard ....... 99
The King's Wardrobe 99
Beaumont's Inn ...... 100
Baynard's Castle g;ranted by Henry I. to Robert
Fitz-Richard 100
Baynard's Castle in the possession of Robert
Fitz-Water in 1198 100
Rights ceded by the Commonalty of London to
Robert Fitz-Water 100
Castle Baynard destroyed by Fire in 1428 . 101
Castle Baynard rebuilt by Humphrey, Duke of
Gloucester ...... 101
Castle Baynard occupied by the Duke of York
in 1457 101
Baynard's Castle repaired and embellished by
Henry VII 101
Last great business of state transacted within the
walls of Baynard's Castle . . . .101
Alliance contracted between a Portion of the
Nobility and the City after the War of the
Roses ....... 102
The City in the Reign of Henry lY. the West-
minster of the present day . . . 102
Gradual Removal of the Nobility from the City
to the West-End of London . . ,103
Residences of the Bishops in the City . . 103
Possessors of Ely House during the Reign of
Elizabeth 104
Proceedings instituted by Matthew Wren, Bishop
of Ely, for the Recovery of Ely House . . 104
Bill in Chancery exhibited by Bishop Wren
against Lord Hatton for the Redemption of
Ely House 104
Dilapidation effected by Protector Somerset pre-
vious to the building of Somerset House .
Episcopal Residences, Churches, &c., pulled
down to supply materials for the Erection of
Somerset House .....
Execution of Protector Somerset in 1552-3
Unsuccessful attempts to change the name of
Somerset House .....
Scenes and Incidents associated with Somerset
House . ......
Occupation of the Inns of the Bishops by the
Nobility after the Reformation . . •
' Thomas Shakespeare's Bill ' ...
Covent Garden granted to the Earl of Bedford
in 1552 .......
Hospital or Chapel formerly standing on the site
of Northumberland House ....
Various possessors and names of Northumber-
land House ......
Alterations and additions made to Northumber-
land House in 1749-50 ....
Social and political associations of Northumber-
land House . . ....
Horace Walpole at Northumberland House
Conferences of the Royalists at Northumberland
House .......
Residence of the Queen of Bohemia at Craven
House .......
Importance of the City of London during the
Commonwealth .....
Warwick House supposed to have been built in
the Reign of Elizabeth ....
Origin of the title ' Lady Holland's Mob '
Shaftesbury House .....
Newcastle House built by Sir Thomas Challoner
Margaret, Duchess of Newcastle . .
Elizabeth, Duchess of Albemarle . . .
Residences of the Nobility in the City as late as
the commencement of the Eighteenth Century
Montague House ......
Houses of the Nobility surrounding St. James's
Palace .......
Conduct of the wife and daughters of the Duke
of Marlborough on his Quarrel with Queen
Anne .......
Samuel Johnson in the ante-chamber at Chester-
field House ......
External Appearance of the existing Mansions of
the Nobility in London . . • •
1(1
It :
u
\{ '
Ki
Iti
ICin:
10
lOj
lOl fc
10'
loj.
10 1
I :
10!
10!i
10!
10!!
10! i
IKJ '
IK t
Hi
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
I York or Stafford House, St. James's Park
Craven House, Wych Street, 1 800
Shaftesbury House, Aldersgate Street, now General Dis-
pensary *..••••••
Spenser House, Green Park ....*.
XI
Designers.
Engravers.
Page
Tiffin
5J
Jackson
. 97
. 108
J)
»
. no
. 112
CXXXIII.— BUCKINGHAM AND OLD WESTMINSTER PALACES.
I King of Bavaria's instructions to his Architect
Ije Palace at Munich .....
iase built by the Duke of Buckingham, for-
lerly standing on the Site of Buckingham Pa-
lestic life of the Duke of Buckingham
Ijmmencement of Buckingham Palace in 1825
1 Tipletion of Buckingham Palace by W. Blore
Ipression conveyed to the Mind in examining
he front of Buckingham Palace
1 terior of Buckingham Palace
1 11 of Buckingham Palace .
Te Library . ,
Te Sculpture Gallery .
1 e Green Drawing-Room
1e Throne Room on State Occasions . .
Jbrks of the Flemish and Dutch Schools in the
Picture Gallery of Buckingham Palace
age of Rooms occupying the Garden Front of
Buckingham Palace .....
e Yellow Drawing-Room ....
ies of Sculptures in Relief by Pitts in Buck-
ngham Palace ......
vate Apartments of the Queen in Buckingham
traiace .......
corations of the Palace at Munich . .
intings in the King's Apartments at Munich
corations of the State Rooms in the Palace at
Vlunich .......
tices of the Palace at Munich by Mrs. Jameson
coration of Her Majesty's Summer-House at
Buckingham Palace .....
nduit or Fountain formerly standing in New
Palace Yard ......
story of the Clock Tower which formerly stood
n New Palace Yard .....
apter House of Westminster Abbey . .
mse of the Gunpowder Conspirators in Old
Palace Yard ......
ecution of Sir "Walter Raleigh in Old Palace
£'ard .......
rliest notice of a Royal Residence at West-
inster .......
rliest parts of Westminster Palace probably
built by Edward the Confessor
3Covery of the Paintings on the Walls of the
Painted Chamber in Westminster Palace
irrant for the Execution of Charles I. signed
n the Painted Chamber ....
e Old House of Lords part of the Confessor's
building .......
Page
113
113
114
114
114
114
114
114
115
115
115
116
117
117
117
117
117
118
118
119
119
119
120
120
120
120
121
121
121
122
122
122
122
The House of Lords designated the Little Hall
after the erection of Westminster Hall by
Rufus .......
Anecdote of Richard Coeur-de-Lion .
The name of Little Hall changed to White Hall
in the reign of Richard II. . ,
Court of Requests instituted in the reign of
Henry VII
The Court of Requests converted into the House
of Lords at the time of the Parliamentary
Union with Ireland .....
Tapestry representing the Victories over the
Spanish Armada, destroyed at the burning of
the Houses of Parliament ....
Westminster Palace supposed to have been en-
larged by the Conqueror ....
Erection of St. Stephen's Chapel by King
Stephen .......
St. Stephen's Chapel destroyed by fire in 1298,
and rebuilt by Edward III. in 1363
St. Stephen's Chapel fitted up for the Commons
in the reign of Edward VI. ....
Side Walls of St. Stephen's Chapel taken down
in 1800
Discovery of the Decorations of St. Stephen's
Chapel .......
Architectural Beauty of the Vestibule, Crypt,
Cloisters, and Oratory of St. Stephen's Chapel
Collegiate Establishment of St. Stephen's Chapel,
as settled by Edward III. ....
The Little Hall consumed by fire in 1263
Removal of the Court to the Archbishop of
York's Palace at Whitehall in the reign of
Edward I. ......
Chaucer appointed Clerk of the Works in 1389,
at the Rebuilding of Westminster Palace ,
Proofs of Chaucer's Architectural ability
St. George's Chapel, Windsor, repaired under
the direction of Chaucer ....
House occupied by Chaucer on the Site of
Henry VII. 's Chapel .....
Fire at Westminster Palace in 1512
Gradual Restoration of Westminster Palace until
its destruction by Fire in 1834
Permanent settlement of the Courts of Law at
Westminster Palace .....
New Courts erected by Sir John Soane in 1820-
1825
Story connected with the Legal Reminiscences
of Westminster
The Star Chamber
ILLUSTRATIONS.
123
123
123
123
123
123
123
124
124
124
124
124
125
125
125
125
125
126
126
126
127
127
127
127
Throne Room, Buckingham Palace
Garden Front, Buckingham Palace
Doorway from the Old Palace, Westminster
From the Painted Chamber, Westminster
Windows from the Old Palace, Westminster
The Star Chaaiber, Westminster Palace .
er .
... a
127
ber
.
128
Designers.
Engravers.
Shepherd
Sears
. 113
»
HOLLOWAY
116
)>
»
. 121
Fairholt
J) • <
122
POYNTER
Sears
124
»
3> <
128
b 2
xu
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CXXXIV.— WESTMINSTER HALL AND THE NEW HOUSES OF PARLIAMEN
Paok
Contrast between Buckingham Palace and the
New Houses of Parliament * . . 129
Recent change in public Feeling on the subject
of Art . ,,...• 129
The Modern Public Buildings of London . 130
Growth of artistical Knowledge and Taste among
the People . . . « . .130
Exhibition of the Cartoons . • . .131
Harmonious simplicity of the arrangement of the
New Houses of Parliament . . • 131
Plan of the New Houses of Parliament . .131
St. Stephen's Hall 131
The Commons' Corridor and Lobby • . 131
The House of the Commons .... 131
The Corridor, Lobby, and House of the Peers . 131
The Victoria Tower and Gallery . . .131
The Conference Hall . . . . .131
Dimensions of the Houses of Parliament . » 131
Sumptuous character of the Architectural and
Sculpturesque Decorations of the New Houses
of Parliament ......
Statues on the East and West Fronts of the
Houses of Parliament ....
Smaller Statues on the river front of the Houses
of Parliament ......
Proposed extension of the original site marked
out for the New Houses of Parliament
Extract from Mr. Barry's Report to the Commis-
sioners on the Fine Arts ....
Proposed alteration of Westminster Bridge
Improvements proposed by Mr. Barry in the
Buildings and Streets surrounding the New
Houses of Parliament ....
Sublime architectural views of William Rufus .
Proposed minor Decorations of the New Houses
of Parliament ......
Plans for the Decoration of those parts of the
New Houses of Parliament which will admit
of extensive artistical operations . . .
Proposed Decoration of the Victoria Gallery •
Decoration of the Central Hall
Paintings in St. Stephen's Hall to be Commemo-
rative of great Domestic Events in British
History .......
Paintings in Westminster Hall to be devoted to
the Representation of the Warlike Achieve-
ments of English History • . • .
132
132
133
133
133
133
134
135
135
136
136
136
136
136
Proposal of making Westminster Hall the De-
pository of Trophies obtained in War .
Objections to the proposed Arrangement of the
Paintings and Sculpture in the New Houses
of Parliament ......
Decoration of the Speaker's Apartments . ,
St. Stephen's Hall a fitting place for Paintings
commemorative of the Events in the local
history of the Lords and Commons .
Decoration of the Octagon Hall . . .
The Robing Room a suitable Place for Paint-
ings representing the personal histories or
incidents relating to the Monarchs of Eng-
land .......
High and important associations of Westmin-
ster Hall ......
Statues to occupy the central space of West-
minster Hall . . . . . •
Purpose for which Rufus built Westminster Hall
Anecdote told by Holinshed of Henry II. and
his Son .......
Feast given in Westminster Hall by Henry III.
in January, 1241-2 .....
Feast given by Henry III. on the Marriage of
his Brother ......
Parliaments held in Westminster Hall before
the division into Two Houses » . •
Westminster Hall the Scene of an awful Exhi-
bition in 1253 ......
Entry of John of France and the Black Prince
into London ......
Attempts of Edward III. and his Family to con-
sole King John .....
The Reign of Richard II. a noticeable one for
Westminster Hall .....
Renunciation of the Crown by Richard II. in
Westminster Hall .....
Instance of the duplicity of Richard III. related
by Holinshed ...•••
State Trials in Westminster Hall • .
Trial of Chancellor More in 1535 .
Important Trials in Westminster Hall since the
Time of Charles I. .... .
Westminster Hall newly fronted and largely re-
paired in the Reign of George IV. • •
Dimensions of Westminster Hall • .
ILLUSTRATIONS.
32. Westminster Hall, with the ancient surrounding Buildings
restored .........
33. Sketch of the Decorations of the unfinished South Wing
of the New Houses of Parliament ....
34. Trial of Charles I. From a Print in Nalson's Report of
the Trial, 1684
35. Interior of Westminster Hall, as seen during the Trial of
Lambert before Henry VIII. .....
Designers.
POYNTER
Tiffin
Fairholt
CXXXV.— THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW.
Ancient Commemoration of the Installation of
a Lord Mayor ...... 145
Origin in the Thirteenth Century of the Ri-
dings ....... 145
A Mayor first granted to the City of London by
King John in 1215 ..... 145
Introduction of the Water Procession on Lord
Mayor's Day ,.,,,, 146
Water Procession from Greenwich to the Tower
on the Coronation Day of Anne Boleyn
Description given by Hall of the Barges of the
Lord Mayor and Company on Anne Boleyn's
Coronation Day .....
Punning allusions to the Name of the Mayor in
the Pageants formerly exhibited on Lord
Mayor's Day • . • . • .
1
1^,
1^'
U
14
U
U
14
Hi
14
14
14
14
14
14!
14:
14
Engravers.
Hollo WAY
.
. 12J
Jackson
•
. 13i
HOLLOWAY
•
•
. 144
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Sarliest notices of Pageants exhibited on Lord
Mayor's Day ......
ageant exhibited at the Installation of Sir "Wil-
liam Draper in 1566-7 • . • .
avages and Green-Men ....
Mayoralty Shows during the Reign of Elizabeth
Vhifflers and Hench-Boys ....
•ageant composed by George Peele in 1585
*ageant entitled * Descensus' composed by
Peele in 1591 ......
ncrease in the Display of Pageantry on Lord
. Mayor's Day during the Reign of James I. .
The Triumphs of Truth' ....
Description by Anthony Munday of two Pa-
geants on the Thames ....
llegorical allusions to the Lord Mayor and his
Company contained in the Pageants exhibited
on Lord Mayor's Day ....
unday's Pageant for 1616 .
Devices and Impersonations in ' Chrysalaneia'
Drawing in the possession of the Fishmongers'
Company ......
The incongruities occasionally displayed on Lord
Mayor's Day satirized by Shirley in his ' Con-
tention for Honour and Riches* . • •
Kntire cessation of Pageants from 1639 to 1655
[leformation practised in the City by Isaac Pen-
nington in ] 643 .....
[lestoration of Pageantry during the Mayoralty
of Sir John Dethick .....
increase in the Number of Pageants yearly exhi-
bited until 1660 • . . . .
^Compliments to Charles 11. contained in the
Pageants for 1661 and 1682
Page
147
147
148
148
149
150
150
150
150
151
151
152
152
153
153
153
154
154
154
154
Series of woodcuts representing the Pageants
exhibited at Antwerp ....
Various Pageants exhibited until their final dis-
continuance in 1702
Pageant produced for Sir William Hooker in
1673
Jovial Song composed in praise of the King and
Queen by Thomas Jordan in 1073
Pageant composed by Thomas Jordan in 1677
exhibited on the Mayoralty of Sir P'rancis
Chaplin .......
Dissension between Charles II. and the Citizens
prejudicial to the annual civic Displays
Election of Sir John Moore in opposition to the
Citizens in 1681
Injustice of Sir John Moore towards the Sheriffs
Papillion and Dubois ....
Arrest of Alderman Cornish in the Reign of
James II. ......
Revival of Pageantry during the Reign of Wil-
liam III. ......
Last public Exhibition by a City Poet in 1702
Vivid Picture of the Lord Mayor's Day in the
City given by Hogarth in the concluding plate
of ' Industry and Idleness ' . . . .
Revival of the Ancient Pageants on Lord Mayor's
Day in 1761
Introduction of the Coach into the Mayoralty
Procession ......
Men in Armour in the Mayoralty Procession .
Introduction of Gog and Magog into the Lord
Mayor's Show .....
Introduction of a ship into the Lord Mayor's
Show in 1841
ILLUSTRATIONS.
J6. The Lord Mayor's Show, 1750, after Hogarth
37. Wild-Men and Green-Men
i8. Whiffler and Hench-Boy ....
59. The Triumph of Neptune ....
Designers.
Fairholt
Engravers.
Jackson
CXXXVL— THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
Sir Hans Sloane the Founder of the British
I Museum .....
Number of Visitors to the British Museum an
I nually ......
[Growth of the British Museum .
Opening of the Museum in January, 1759
jA.ddition of George III.'s Library and the Elgin
Marbles to the British IMuseum
Arrival of the Egyptian Monuments in 1801
iMontague House before its Destruction by Fire
in 1686 ......
Restoration of Montague House
Interior Arrangements of the New Buildings at
the British Museum ....
Architectural character of the new works at
the British Museum . . .
5tatues in the Hall of the Museum
2)ountry Visitors to the British Museum
The Mammalia Saloon .
3rnithological Department of the Museum
The Dodo ......
Excellence of the arrangements that prevail
throughout the Museum
Collection of Shells in the Museum
Portraits in the Long Gallery of the Museum
Jollection of Reptiles in the Northern Zoological
Gallery .......
161
162
162
163
163
163
163
163
163
164
165
165
165
166
166
166
167
167
167
The Collection of Minerals in the British Mu-
seum superior to any in Europe
Stone used by Dr. Dee and his assistant, Kelly,
preserved in the British Museum
The Egyptian Room .....
The Etruscan Room .....
Mummies and Mummy-cases
The Egyptian Saloon .....
Head of Sesostris in the Egyptian Saloon
Difficulties encountered by Belzoni in transport-
ing Sesostris from Thebes to the Nile . .
Important Works in the Egyptian Saloon ,
Xanthian Marbles in the Grand Saloon .
Head of Minerva in the Grand Saloon . .
Statue of Venus or Dione in the Grand Sa-
loon .......
The Phigaleian Marbles ....
Battle of the Centaurs and Lapitha?
The Phigaleian Marbles probably from the De-
signs of Phidias ......
Statue of Minerva by Phidias in the Parthe-
non .......
The Elgin Marbles obtained chiefly from the
remains of the Parthenon ....
The Metopes of the Elgin Marbles . .
The Panathenaja, a Procession in honour of
Minerva .......
Xlll
Page
154
155
155
156
157
157
157
158
158
158
15S
159
159
159
159
159
160
145
148
149
155
167
167
167
167
168
169
169
169
170
170
171
171
171
171
172
172
172
172
172
XIV
ANALYTIC A.L TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Portions of the Panathenaic Frieze preserved in
the British Museum .....
Chariots and Horsemen on the Northern Pana-
thenaic Frieze ......
Principal Statues in the Elgin Collection
The Townley Collection commenced at Rome
in 1768
Copies of the eastern and western extremities
of the Temple of Jupiter Panhellenius ,
Roman Sepulchral Antiquities in the Ante-
Room of the Townley Gallery .
Anecdote of Mr. Townley ....
The Discobolus in Room XI. of the British
Museum .......
Page
173
173
173
173
174
174
174
174
Sir William Hamilton's Miscellaneous Collection
of Antiquities ......
Torso of Venus and Statue of Cupid in the Town-
ley Collection ......
Anecdote of Praxiteles and Phryne . . .
The Medal Room in the British Museum
The Manuscript Department ....
The General Library of Printed Books in the
Museum .......
The Banksian or Botanical Department of the
British Museum .....
Number of Persons employed in fulfilling the
duties attached to the Museum . . .
Entire Expenses of the British Museum . .
ILLUSTRATIONS.
40. Statue of Theseus, Back View . . •
41. Back of the New Entrance to the British Museum
42. Mummy Case, or Coffin of Otaineh .
43. Side View of the Bust of Rameses the Great .
44. Slab from the Phigaleian Marbles . .
45. The Panathenaic Frieze ....
46. Torso of Venus ......
47. Statue of Cupid, Townley Collection , .
Designers.
Engravers.
Harvey
Jackson
Tiffin
»
Blunt
Landells
H. CoRBOULD Jackson
W. Clark
Jackson
Pag|
t
17!
17
17;
17;
17i
171
17{
lit
176
161,
164
168
170
171
173
175
176
CXXXVIL— MUSIC.
Earliest known pieces of English Musical Com-
position ....... 177
Music more universally appreciated and enjoyed
in former times than in the present day . 178
Music formerly considered a necessary part of
the education of persons of I'ank . . . 178
The Harp in common use amongst the English
in the time of Bede ..... 178
The Clergy essentially a musical class in the
Middle Ages 179
Person sent from the Pope in 678 to teach Music
to the English Clergy . . . .179
Instance of the value attached to Musical know-
ledge in the Eighth Century . . , 179
Minstrels and "Waits 179
Music in Ireland ...... 180
Passage from Giraldus Cambrensis , ,180
Gradual Introduction of the Italian Style into
Music during the Thirteenth Century . . 180
Description of a Lady's singing in Chaucer's
' Romaunt of the Rose ' . . . . 181
Musical Instruments possessed by the Anglo-
Saxons ....... 181
The Organ the chief Church Instrument in the
time of the Anglo-Saxons . . , .181
Decline of Music after the Fifteenth Century . 1 82
Origin of Modern English Music to be dated
from the Reformation . . , .182
Tye, the first Musician after the Reformation . 182
Madrigalian Composers in the reign of Eliza-
beth 183
Cromwell's appreciation of Music . . . 183
Music and Musicians proscribed during the Com-
monwealth ...... 183
Introduction of French Music into England after
the Restoration . . . . .183
Rise of Concerts in the reign of Charles II. , 184
Music amongst the Lower Classes in the Seven-
teenth Century . . . . . ,184
Thomas Britton, the Founder of Modern Con-
certs ....,,. 184
Thomas Britton's friends . . . .184
The Duchess of Queensberry . . . .185
Circumstances attending the death of Britton , 186
Establishment of Music Shops after Britton's
Concerts ....... 186
Establishment of the Academy of Ancient Con-
certs in 1710 186
Services rendered to Music by the Academy of
Ancient Concerts . , . . . 186
First Public Performance of Handel's Oratorios
in 1732 186
Lines by Pope on the occasion of the quarrel
between Handel and the Nobilityi . , 186
Performance of Handel's Oratorios at Covent
Garden, after his return from Ireland in 1742 187
Foundation of the Madrigal Society by John
Immyns .,..,,. 187
Foundation of the Catch Club in 1762 , . 187
Services rendered to Music by the early exertions
of the Catch Club 188
Establishment of the Glee Club in 1787 . . 188
Evidences of the rapid progress of Music after
the establishment of the Catch Club . , 188
Commencement of Subscription Concerts in
London in 1763 188
Abel's Performances on the Viol di Gamba . 189
Anecdote related by Dr. Walcot, of Abel the
Composer ....... 189
Establishment of the Pantheon and Professional
Concerts ....... 189
Salomon's Engagements with Haydn and Mozart 189
Performance of the ' Creation' at the Opera
Concert Room in 1798 . . . .189
Subscription Concerts in London after the esta-
blishment of Salomon's .... 189
Musical Societies of the present day . .189
Establishment of the Royal Academy of Music
in 1822 .189
The Sacred Harmonic Society . . . 190
The Promenade Concerts .... 190
The Ancient Concerts Established in 1776 . 190
The Handel Commemoration . • ., 190
Formation of the Philharmonic Society in 1813 190
Early Members of the Philharmonic . . 191
Decline of the Philharmonic .... 191
Performance of Beethoven's ' Eroica' by the Phil-
harmonic Band . . . . , • 191
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
II Hanover Square Rooms, as arranged for a Private Concert .
Anglo-Saxon Illumination, showing various Musical Instru-
l ments, from the Cotton MSS. ......
i Anglo-Saxon Illumination, representing a Dance with Musicians,
from the Cotton MSS
t Anglo-Saxon Illumination, from the Cotton MSS. .
." Dulcimer and Violin ........
t Thomas Britton ........
XV
Designers.
Engravers.
Paoe
Tiffin
Jackson .
. 177
Fairholt
Biggs
. 178
Brown
Wheeler
>> •
»>
Jackson .
. 180
. 181
. 182
. 185
CXXXVIII.— THE SQUARES OF LONDON.
' e Square peculiar to England • . •
' e Square in great measure an accidental in-
t^ention ••.....
(vent Garden the oldest of London Squares .
' e Square of Covent Garden completed after
;he Restoration ......
."ection of Squares in the reign of Charles II. .
ejections made to the word Square • .
;miber of Squares in London in 1734 . .
'le Fashionable Squares of London . .
' e City Squares ......
I eat Difference in the extent of the Squares of
London .......
mensions of the larger London Squares .
idgewater Square .....
oomy appearance of Charterhouse Square .
ellclose Square ......
. sociations connected with the City Squares .
eetings of Hogarth's Club in Covent Gar-
den .......
lost at the Old Hummums ....
ncoln's Inn Fields, in point of antiquity, the
next Square to Covent Garden . . .
3wcastle House ......
ijho Square formerly called Monmouth Square,
rho the gayest Square in London in the begin-
ning of the Reign of George III. .
jrnely's Masquerades and Balls held in Soho
Square .......
terior of the Houses in Soho Square
iicester House ......
olden Square ......
^ansion of the Bedford Family in Russell
Square .......
oomsbury Square the Residence of Lady
Rachel Russell ......
[uares in the neighbourhood of Bedford Square
litzroy Square ......
ed Lion Square .... . .
he West-End Squares .....
. James's the most truly aristocratic Square
in London ......
j.esidences of the Bishops in St. James's Square
i[ansion of the Wyndham Club in St. James's
j Square .... . .
[lOuses of the Erectheium and Navy and Army
' Clubs in St. James's Square . •
jtansion once inhabited by Sir Philip Francis
occupied for a time by the Colonial Club
Page
193
193
194
194
194
194
194
195
195
195
195
196
196
196
196
197
197
197
197
197
197
197
198
198
199
199
199
199
199
200
200
200
200
200
201
201
Inequality of the Ground in Berkeley Square .
Lansdowne House .....
Statue of George III. in Berkeley Square.
Death of Lady Mary Wortley Montague in
Berkeley Square .....
Scarcity of Historical Associations connected
with Berkeley Square ....
Architectural Character of the Houses in Gros-
venor Square ......
Equestrian Statue of George I. in Grosvenor
Square .......
Grosvenor Square a favourite Residence of the
oldest titled families .....
Commencement of Portman Square in 1764 .
Residence of Mrs. Montague in Portman Square
Montague and Bryanstone Squares .
Manchester House commenced in 1776 . .
Completion of Manchester Square in 1788
Purchase of Manchester House by the King of
Spain in 1788 ......
Cavendish and Hanover Squares . .
Mansion in Cavendish Square occupied by the
Duke of Portland .....
Death of the heir of the Grand Duke of Chandos
Associations of Cavendish Square ...
Hanover Square ......
The British and Foreign Institute in Hanover
Square .......
The Five Fields
Belgrave the most gorgeous of London Squares
Uniformity of the Architecture of Belgrave
Square ....«.•
Peculiar Character of Eaton and Euston Squares
Terminus of the Birmingham Railway in Euston
Square .......
Railway Termini in London ....
Suburban Squares ......
Kennington Oval ......
Kennington Common and Camberwell Green .
Hoxton the oldest of Suburban Squares . .
Dorset Square ......
Kensington Square probably a place of Fashion
at the beginning of the Eighteenth Century .
Hans-Town. •
Squares in Chelsea
Edward Square, Kensington
Waterloo Place .
Trafalgar Square .
Excavations round the Mansion House
ILLUSTRATIONS.
4. Belgrave Square .
5. Soho Square .
3. Bridgewater Square
Designers.
B rown
J >
Engravers.
Jackson
201
201
201
201
201
201
202
202
202
202
202
203
203
203
203
203
203
204
204
204
204
205
205
205
206
206
206
206
206
206
206
206
207
207
207
207
207
208
193
198
208
XVI
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CXXXIX.— THE STATIONERS' COMPANY.
Avocations of the Members of the Stationers'
Company prior to the Fifteenth Century .
Effect produced by the Introduction of Printing
Trade Arrangements in the Reign of Elizabeth .
Printing considered a Matter of State on its
First Introduction into England .
Literary Constables .....
Privileges possessed by the Stationers' Company
previous to the Introduction of Printing ,
Accession of Members to the Stationers' Com-
pany during the Reign of Elizabeth . .
Exterior of Stationers' Hall . . . .
Signs of Business in the Stationers' Hall •
Almanacs published by the Stationers' Company
The Almanac History of the Stationers' Com-
pany
The Exclusive Right of publishing Almanacs
conferred on the Stationers' Company and the
Universities by James I. .
Gratitude of the Stationers' Company to Astro-
logy and Astrologers .....
Attacks on Astrology in the Almanac of AUstree
Portraiture, by Butler, of Lilly, the Astrologer .
Birth and Education of Lilly ....
Evidence of Lilly's Popularity and the State of
Public Feeling in 1634 ....
Horoscope of Charles I. published by Lilly in
1633 .......
Circumstance following the Promulgation of one
of Lilly's Prognostications ....
Powers assigned to Astrologers by Butler.
Changes in Lilly's Political Opinions
Unsuccessful applications made by Lilly for
employment after the Restoration
Death of Lilly in 1681
Aubrey's illustration of the method of Almanac-
making
Attack upon the Astrologers by Swift in 1709 .
Swift's Persecution of Partridge, the Astrologer
Extract from the ' London Magazine '
The Stationers' Company's Patent of Monopoly
declared worthless .....
Despotic Power exercised by the Crown over
the Press .......
Number of Printers restricted to twenty by a
Decree issued from the Star Chamber in 1637
Publication of Milton's ' Areopagitica, a speech
for unlicensed Printing ' , , ,
Page
209
209
209
210
210
210
211
211
211
212
212
212
212
213
213
214
214
214
214
215
215
215
215
215
215
216
216
217
217
217
217
PJ
The Question of the Monopoly of publishing
Almanacs argued in the Court of Common
xieas .......
Bill brought into Parliament by Lord North for
preserving the patent of monopoly to the Sta-
tioners' Company . . • . , ,
Erskine's speech on the Subject of the Stationers'
Company's monopoly .....
Erskine's inquiry into the state of the Almanacs
under the supervision of the Stationers' Com-
pany .......
Erskine's review of the Almanacs' Claims to
Correctness and Scientific Learning •
The Monopoly of the Stationers' Company de-
cided against by a Majority of 45 , ,
Purchase of Almanacs by the Stationers' Com-
pany .......
Endeavour of the Stationers' Company to reform
their publications .....
Publication of the British Almanac in 1828 ,
Improvement in the Almanacs published by the
Stationers' Company .....
Extent of Business now done by the Stationers'
Company .......
Number of Freemen and Liverymen of the Sta-
tioners' Company . • . . .
Investment of the Capital of the Stationers' Com-
pany .......
Receipts and Expenditure of the Stationers'
Company .......
Interior of the Stationers' Hall ,
The Court Room ......
West's Picture of Alfred and the Pilgrim . •
Portrait of Boydell in the Court Room of the
Stationers' Company • . . « .
Noticeable Pictures belonging to the Stationers'
Company ......
Humanity of the Stationers' Company to Bowyer,
the Printer ......
Charities of the Stationers' Company
Successful Speculations and Money Investments
of Guy the Printer . . ...
Custom of entering the Titles of all new Publi-
cations on the Books of the Stationers' Com-
pany .......
All assignments of Copyrights registered by the
Stationers' Company .....
57. Hall of the Stationers' Company
58. Alfred and the Pilgrim
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Designers.
. . . Anelay
. . . DiCKES
Engravers.
Jackson
Sears
2|
2
2]
i
21
21
2l|
22
22
22i
22
22
22:
22.
22
22)
22c|
223
223
223
223
i
224
224
209
222
CXL.— BILLS OF MORTALITY.
Increase in the Number of Deaths in the Metro-
polis in November, 1843 .... 225
Bills of Mortality commenced in 1592 . . 225
Account given by Captain Grant in 1662 of the
Manner in which Bills of Mortality were prepared 225
Licence obtained in 1625 from the Star Chamber
by the Company of Parish Clerks . . 226
Erroneous notions respecting the Population
of London ...... 226
Parishes comprised within the Bills of Mortality
in 1605 227
Parishes at present included within the Weekly
Bills of Mortality 227
Nosology of the Old Bills of Mortality
Warning afforded by the Bills of Mortality as to
the Existence or Progress of the Plague
Ravages of the Plague in London during the
Seventeenth Century ....
General influence of the Excessive Mortality oc-
casioned by the Plague on the Ordinary Course
of Life .......
Yearly Supply of Strangers to London
Havoc made by the Spasmodic Cholera in Lon-
don in the Year 1348 .....
The Great Plague of 1665
Notices of the Plague in Pepys's * Diary' in 1663
227
228
228
22S
229
229
229
229
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
radual Increase of the Plague in London from
December, 1664 • . . . «
itries relating to the Plague in Pepys's * Diary '
I apid Increase in the Mortality occasioned by
the Plague in Jime, 1665 ....
jmmittee formed in May, 1665, for the Preven-
tion of the Spreading of the Plague
Lrections drawn up by the College of Physicians
containing Instructions for the Treatment of
the Plague, and the Prevention of Infection .
reservatives and Remedies administered by
Quacks during the Ravages of the Plague
egulations established by the City Authorities
during the Raging of the Plague .
(gulations issued for the speedy Burial of the
Dead ,.•....
ist Houses • • . • • •
tpid Progress of the Plague in August, 1665 •
[disposing Causes of the Plague . .
Iract by the Rev. Thomas Yincent, entitled
< God's Terrible Voice in the City'
:wful Calamities predicted during the Continu-
ance of the Plague . . . . •
.jclamation issued by the Lord Mayor enjoin-
ing Fires to be kindled to purify the pestilen-
, tial Air .......
[light Decrease in September, 1665, intheNum-
' ber of Deaths from the Plague . . •
radual Decrease in the Mortality occasioned
by the Plague from October, 1665
otal Deaths of the Year 1665
icture of the external Appearance of London
during the Period of the Plague • . .
xtracts from Pepys's ' Diary ' . . .
Page
230
230
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230
230
231
231
231
232
232
232
232
233
233
234
234
234
234
234
xvii
Page
Yalue and Importance of the Bills of Mortality
in the Time of the Plague .... 235
Number of Births in London in the Year 1842 . 235
The Bills of Mortality now utterly valueless . 236
Parishes which have ceased to make returns of
Mortality to the Company of Parish Clerks . 236
* Table of Mortality in the Metropolis ' . . 236
New system of Registration commenced July,
1837 .236
Notice attached to the Bill of Mortality for
1837 .236
Weekly Bills prepared at the Registrar-General's
Office 237
Articles on ' Nosology' and ' Statistical Nosology'
in the Reports of the Registrar-General , 237
Table of the Mortality in the Metropolis during
the Week ending Saturday the 18th of Novem-
ber, 1843 237
Limits of the Metropolitan Registration District 238
Population and Number of Deaths in the Five
great Divisions of the Metropolitan District • 238
Advantages of an accurate Registration . . 238
Remarkable Accuracy of the Mortality Bills of
the Registration Office .... 239
Irregularities incidental to the Preparation of the
Mortality Bills 239
* The Dance of Deatb ' 239
Painting of the ' Dance of Death ' in St. Paul's
destroyed by Protector Somerset • . . 239
Painting of a ' Death's Dance' in the Church of
Stratford-on-Avon ..... 239
Poem by Lydgate, entitled ' The Daunce of
Machabree' 239
Death and the Child in Lydgate's Poem . . 240
ILLUSTRATIONS.
). Death and the Old Man, from Holbein's ' Dance of Death'
3. Pest-House in Tothill Fields, Westminster, from a print by Hollar
I. Death and the King, from Holbein's ' Dance of Death '
Designers.
Jackson
Fairholt
Engravers.
Jackson • 225
Sladek . 232
. 240
CXLL— THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND SOANE MUSEUM.
'urchase of the Angerstein Pictures by the
Ministry in 1823
>f umber of Pictures in the National Gallery for
which the Public are indebted to Private Mu-
nificence .......
collections of Pictures in the Public Galleries
abroad ,...•..
average daily Number of Visitors to the Na-
tional Gallery ......
Arrangement of the Pictures in the National
Gallery .......
'artoons at the Top of the Staircase of the Na-
tional Gallery ......
^Examination of Mr. Seguier by a Parliamentary
I Committee on the Subject of the arrangement
of the Pictures in the National Gallery.
General Management of the National Gallei-y .
|2ntire annual Expense of the National Gallery
(Contents of the National Gallery
Christ disputing with the Doctors'
; The Raising of Lazarus ' • . . .
jlivalry of Michael Angelo and Raphael . •
^Exhibition at Rome in 1520 of the * Raising of
Lazarus' and the * Transfiguration '
ijpecimens of the Florentine School in the Na-
I tional Gallery ......
p'rancia's Pictures in the National Gallery
^erugino's ' Yirgin and Child with St. John ' .
241
241
242
242
242
242
243
244
244
244
244
244
245
245
245
245
246
Works of Raphael in the N aional Gallery . 246
Raphael's Portrait of Pope Julius • . ,246
Giulio Romano's ' Charity ' . . . . 246
Works of Garofalo in the National Gallery . 246
Works of the remaining Painters of the Roman
School in the National Gallery • . . 246
Titian and his followers. .... 247
Titian's • Venus and Adonis'. . . . 247
Titian's * Bacchus and Ariadne ' . . . 247
The ' Death of Peter the Martyr ' in the National
Gallery ascribed to Giorgione . . . 247
Works of Sebastian del Piombo in the National
Gallery ...••.. 248
Story related of Tintoretto .... 248
Productions of the Venetian School in the Na-
tional Gallery ...... 248
Correggio's ' Mercury and Venus ' . . . 248
Correggio's Feelings at the Sight of Raphael's
'St. Cecilia' 249
Parmegiano evidently an Imitator of Correggio . 249
Effect of Parmegiano's ' Vision of St. Jerome '
upon the Troops of Constable Bourbon. . 249
Pictures of the Ferrara School in the National
Gallery 249
State of Art at the Time of the Reformation . 250
Foundation of the Eclectic School of Bologna by
the Carracci ...... 250
Works of the Carracci in the National Gallery , 250
XVIII
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Paoe
Characters of the three Carracci . , . 250
Guido and Domenichino, Pupils of the Carracci 250
Guido's * Andromeda ' ..... 251
Patient industry of Domenichino . . . 251
Paintings of Van Eyck ..... 251
The School of Flanders raised by John Van
Eyck and his Brother to the highest pitch of
Eminence. ...... 251
"Works of Rubens in the National Gallery . 251
Rubens's Discovery of the genius of Vandyke . 251
Pictures in the National Gallery by Vandyke . 252
Productions of Rembrandt in the National Gallery 252
"Works of the Dutch School in the National
Gallery . . .... 252
Works by Claude Lorraine in the National Gal-
lery . • • . * . . 252
Pao,
"Works by the Poussins in the National Gallery. 25;
Salvator Rosa's * Mercury and the Woodman ' . 25;
Pictures by Murillo ..... 25c
Velasquez the greatest of Spanish Painters . 251:
Specimens of English Art in the National Gal-
lery . . . . . , , . 254i
Collection of Pictures in Devonshire House . 254l
The Bridgewater Collection .... 254!
The Grosvenor Gallery ..... 2551
The Soane Museum ..... 255
Interior of the Soane Museum . . . 256
Contents of the Soane Museum . . . 256
Pictures in the Soane Museum . . . 256,
Egyptian Sarcophagus preserved in the Soane
Museum ....... 256
62. The Soane Museum
63. The Picture Gallery, Grosvenor House
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Designers.
Engtavers.
. « 4 • .
Tiffin
Jackson
.
. 241
House ....
J >
* 3
«
. 255
CXLIL— THE METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS.
Rapid Increase in the Population of London at
the close of the Seventeenth Century
Conjectures of Sir William Petty respecting the
Population of London ....
Act passed in 1592 prohibiting the erection of
new Buildings in London ....
Anxiety of James I. to repress the growth of
London .......
Proclamations issued by Charles I. to check the
further increase of London . . .
Measures adopted by James I. to prevent an
increase of Population in the Metropolis
Fear and Apprehension with which the increase
of London was regarded ....
Extent of the City of London Within the Walls
London Without the Walls , . , ,
Population of London Within the Walls .
Population of London Without the Walls. .
The Borough of Southwark ....
The Exchequer of Receipt removed from Win-
chester to Westminster in the Reign of Ste-
phen .......
Westminster the seat of Government from the
Time of Edward I. . . .
London in 1560 .... . .
"Union of the Cities of London and Westminster
in the Reign of James I. .
Increase of the Suburbs of London in the time
of James I. . . . . . .
Causes of the increase in the Population of Lon-
don pointed out by Sir William Petty .
St. Giles's-in-the-Fields a Town separate from
the Capital until after the Reign of James I.
Names of the older Streets around Covent
Garden .......
Increase of the Metropolis towards the close of
the Reign of Charles 11. .
Golden and Leicester Squares inhabited by the
Aristocracy up to the middle of the Eighteenth
Century ....,,,
Extent of London in 1720 . . . .
Parishes of Paddington and St. Mary-le-bone .
The Village of Tyburn ....
Lord Mayor's Banqueting-House at Tyburn
The Place of Execution for Malefactors trans-
ferred from Tyburn to the Old Bailey in 1783
Mary-le-bone Gardens
257
257
258
258
258
258
259
259
259
260
260
260
260
260
260
261
261
261
262
262
262
262
2r)2
263
263
263
263
263
Commencement in 1716 of the increase in the
Parish of Mary-le-bone ....
Extent of the Parish of St. Pancras . .
St. Pancras New Church ....
The Parish of St. George's, Bloomsbury . .
Great Russell Street a fashionable Part of
London in the middle of the Eighteenth Cen-
tury .......
Bedford House ......
Interesting circumstances connected with the
Growth of the Metropolis . . . ;
Boundaries of the Fen or Great Moor . .
Finsbury Fields ......
Attempts made to drain the Fen in 1512 and 1527
The Manor of Finsbury ....
Erection of Finsbury Square at the close of the
Eighteenth Century .....
Fields round London enclosed in the Reign of
Henry VIII
Instances of rapid Growth in the Metropolitan
Suburbs .......
Yearly increase in the size of London . .
Maitland's enumeration of the Boroughs and
Villages ** engulphed" by London . .
The Privilege of electing Representatives in Par-
liament exercised by the City of London for
Six Centuries . .
Two Members sent to Parliament by the Bo-
rough of Southwark since 1295 . ,
The Westminster 'Elections^ famous in the an-
nals of Electioneering ....
Eminent Men who have represented Westmin-
ster in Parliament .....
The Westminster Election of 1741 . ,
The Westminster Election of 1784
Passage in a Letter from Hannah More relating
to the Westminster Election ...
Active Canvass for Fox carried on by the
Duchess of Devonshire . , . . .
Election and Chairing of Fox . . .
Dejeuner given by the Prince of Wales in ho-
nour of Mr. Fox's Election . . •
Ball given by Mrs. Crewe to celebrate Fox's re-
turn for Westminster ....
Comparative Wealth of the Boroughs of London
Population and Number of Electors of the Bo-
roughs of London .....
264
264
264
264
264
264
265
265
265
265
266
266
266
266
267
257
267
267
268
268
268
268
268
268
269
269
269
270
270
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
X)X
Page Pa ob
itrasts between the seven Boroughs of the I Situation of the Borough of the Tower Hamlets 271
Jetropolis ...... 270 Extent of Lambeth Borough . . . 271
lation and Boundaries of the Borough of j Parishes included within the Borough of South-
larylebone
■ough of Finsbury
271
271
wark
272
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Marylebone, 1720. From the Basin in Marylebone Park,
near Regent's Park .......
Finsbury Fields in the Reign of Elizabeth . ,
Designers.
Fairholt
Engravers.
Nugent
Welch
257
272
CXLIII.— EXHIBITIONS OF ART.
►gress of Art in England since the Days of
Hogarth, Reynolds, &c. .... 273
Ibablishment of the Shakspere Gallery by Al-
lerman Boydell ..... 274
f :cess of the Shakspere Gallery . . . 274
Icuniary Difficulties experienced by Boydell 274
Jsposal of the Shakspere Gallery by Lottery . 274
<^ray's Print of the Shakspere Gallery tra-
i/estied ....... 274
JfBculties attending the discovery of the true
)rigin of Institutions .... 275
{lemes of West for the Encouragement of Art 275
'. e British Institution founded in 1805 . . 275
] nefits rendered to Art by the British Institu-
ion ....... 275
Ihibition of Reynolds's Works in 1813 . 276
jhibition of the Works of Hogarth, Wilson,
ISainsborough, and ZofFany . . • 276
(ael neglect with which Wilson was treated . 276
.LBcdote of Wilson's independence of feeling 276
'. hibition at the British Institution of the
Works of Rembrandt, Yandyck, and Rubens 277
I hibition of the Works of the deceased British
Masters in 1817 277
.hibition at the British Institution of the
Works of Reynolds, West, and Lawrence . 277
e Wilkie Exhibition 277
.hibition at the British Institution in 1822 . 278
irtin's ' Belshazzar's Feast' . . • 278
[cumstances attending the Production of Bird's
Picture of ' Chevy Chase' . . . .278
rd"s * Death of Eli' 278
mual Exhibitions at the British Institution 280
ece of Sculpture by Banks decorating the ex-
terior of the British Institution . . . 280
nks's Colossal Statue of Achilles . . 280
Sudden growth of the School of Painting in
Water-Colours .....
Establishment of the Society of Painters in
Water-Colours .....
Introduction of Oil-Colours by Yan Eyck
Anecdote told of Girtin, one of the Founders of
the modern Water-colour School . •
Founders of the Society of Painters in Water-
Colours .......
First Water-Colour Exhibition in Lower Brook
Street .......
One of the earliest productions of Mr. Edwin
Landseer exhibited at the Water-Colour Ex-
hibition in Spring Gardens
Formation of a New Society of Painters in
Water-Colours in 1832 ....
Gallery of the Society of Painters in Water-
Colours in Pail-Mall
Establishment of the Society of British Artists
in 1823 . . . * .
The Artists' Annuity Fund ....
The Artists' Benevolent Fund.
Panorama in Leicester Square. . .
The Colosseum in the Regent's Park . •
First Exhibition of the Diorama in London
Interior of the Diorama in the Regent's Park .
Representation of the Church of St. Paul exhi-
bited at the Diorama .....
Representation of Notre Dame at the Dio-
rama .......
De Loutherbourg's Eidophusikon .
' Storm at Sea ' exhibited at the Eidophusikon .
Sir Joshua Reynolds's Admiration for the Eido-
phusikon .....••
Disposal of the Eidophusikon by De Louther-
bourg ...'•••
280
280
281
281
281
282
282
282
282
282
283
283
283
283
283
283
285
285
286
287
287
287
ILLUSTRATIONS.
I . British Gallery, Pall-Mall .
I. The Battle of Chevy Chase— Bird
I. The Colosseum .
Designers.
An E LAY
DiCKES
Brown
Engravers.
Jackson
Green
Jackson
273
279
284
CXLIV.-— THE STOCK EXCHANGE.
strict in which the largest Monetary and Com-
mercial transactions of London take place . 289
' sselated Pavement discovered in Fenchurch
Street 290
. itwerp the Centre of the Money Power of
Europe in the Sixteenth Century . . . 290
; ms of Money lent to Queen Elizabeth by the
Merchants of London . .... 290
Growth of the National Debt ....
Excess of Expenditure over Income during the
American War ......
Loan demanded by Mr. Pitt in 1796
Plan proposed by Mr. Pitt for raising the Loan
demanded. ......
Subscription opened in December 1796 for the
Loyalty Loan ......
290
291
291
291
29]
XX
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Prejudice against Speculators created by the
South Sea Bubble .....
Artifices resorted to for Raising or Depressing the
prices of Stocks ......
Jonathan's Coffee House, in 'Change Alley, the
great Resort of Speculators ....
Erection of the Stock Exchange in 1801 .
Regulations of the Stock Exchange .
Jobbers and Brokers .....
Transactions at the Stock Exchange
Fluctuations in the Rate of Interest .
Extent of the Transactions of a Firm of Stock
Brokers .,...••
* Time Bargains ' . • • • •
The Bull and the Bear
Circumstances producing a Rise or Fall in the
Funds .......
Foreign Stocks subject to greater Fluctuations
than the English Stocks ....
Facilities for Speculation afforded by the Lon-
don Stock Exchange .....
Letter of a Jew of Mogadore desirous to go on
the London Stock Exchange
Risk incurred by Members of the Stock Exchange
Page
292
292
292
293
293
293
294
295
295
296
297
297
297
297
297
298
The Life of a Member of the Stock Exchange
apparently one of continual Excitement
Fallof the Funds in 1797 . . . .
Fraud committed on the Stock Exchange ia
February, 1814 ......
Fall of the Funds after the Battle of Mont-
mirail .......
Letter of De Berenger, the principal in the
Fraud executed on the Stock Exchange
Failure of part of the Plot conceived by De
Berenger and his accomplices . .
Fluctuation in the Funds consequent upon the
reports circulated by De Berenger and his
confederates ......
Discovery of the Plot and Arrest of the Parties
implicated *....,
Trial of De Berenger and others " . • •
Effects of the great Panic of 1825 upon the
Public Funds ......
Forgery of Exchequer Bills by Smith and Rapallo
Periods of the issue of Supply Bills .
Mode of operation adopted by Smith and Rapallo
Discovery of the Forgeries committed by Smith
and Rapallo in October, 1841 . .
ILLUSTRATION.
69. Stock Exchange, Capel Court
Designer.
Shepherd, Jun.
Engraver.
Wragg
2^
CXLV.— RAILWAY TERMINI.
Travelling in Modern Times .... 305
Number of the Metropolitan Termini . . 306
Annual Income of the Birmingham Railway
Company .......
Revolution wrought by the Introduction of Rail-
ways .......
Attempt to explain the Vision of the Chariot by
the Prophet Ezekiel .....
Striking Individual Features of the Metropolitan
Railways .....*.
The London and Birmingham the earliest and
greatest of Metropolitan Railways
Act obtained for the Greenwich Railway in 1833
Improvements in the formation of Railways
introduced by Mr. Brunei ....
The Great Western Railway ....
Speed attained by the Engines on the Great
Western Railway .....
Parliamentary Opposition to the Formation of
the Great Western Railway. . . .
Examination of an Engineer on the subject of a
proposed Railroad .....
Noticeable characteristic of the Southampton
Railway ......
Government Patronage enjoyed by the South-
ampton Railway Company ....
Branch Railways to Epsom and Salisbury about
to be undertaken by the Southampton Rail-
way Company ......
Railway Termini at the Foot of London Bridge.
Works on the Dover Railway ....
Branch Railway now in Progress from the Croy-
don Line .......
Difficulty experienced in obtaining the Act for
the Establishment of the Brighton Railway .
Works on the line of the Eastern Counties Railway 311
Expense of the Eastern Counties Railway . 311
Union of the North - Eastern and Eastern
Counties Railway Companies . . . 311
Peculiar features of the London and Blackwall
Railway 311
306
306
306
306
307
307
308
308
308
308
308
309
309
309
309
309
310
310
The Electric Telegraph .....
Excavations on the Line of the London and Bir-
mingham Railway .....
Stations on the Birmingham Railway . .
Wolverton .......
The Camden Town Station ....
Plan adopted on the Birmingham Railway re-
specting the Transport of Luggage . ,
Number of Engines employed on the Birming-
ham Railway ......
Investigation made into the Respective Powers of
Passenger Engines .....
The Railway Whistle • . . . .
Perfection of the Arrangements on the Birming-
ham Railway ......
The Pilot Engine
Decrease in the Average Number of Railway
Accidents ..••...
The Gate of the Euston Square Station the
grandest Specimen of Grecian Architecture
existing in England .....
Arrangements and Regulations at the Euston
Square Station ......
Annual Sale by the Birmingham Railway Com-
pany of the unclaimed Property left by Pas-
sengers .......
Friendly Society formed among the Parties con-
nected Avith the Birmingham Railway . .
Number of Persons employed on the Birming-
ham Railway ......
Carriage built for the use of the Queen by the
Birmingham Railway Company . . .
Rooms at the Euston Square Station for the use
of Her Majesty ......
The Railway Post Office ....
"Various particulars connected with the Metro-
politan Railways .....
West London Railway .....
Atmospheric Railways .....
Speed of the Trains on the Dalkey Extension of
the Dublin and Kingstown Railway
31
31
31
31
31
31
3ii
31
31
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
XXI
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Terminus of the Blackwall Railway .....
The London Terminus of the Dover, Brighton, and Croydon
Railway, London Bridge ......
Entrance to the London and Birmingham Railway •
Bridge, Canal, and Railway at Wormwood Scrubbs
Designers.
Engravers,
Page
B. Sly
Sears
. 305
)>
Welch .
. 310
—
Jackson
. 316
Thompson
Whiting
. 320
CXLVL— MILITARY LONDON.
Dorfields Seven Centuries ago
. sociations connected with Bunhill Fields •
ilton's House in Artillery Walk . . •
' e Artillery Company .....
fred the Great's Treatment of the Wife and
(Sons of Hastings .....
fluence of London on all Occasions of great
Importance ....••
etropolitan Support of King Stephen . •
ight of the Empress Matilda from London
forts of the London Citizens during the con-
tention between Henry III. and the Barons .
ipport given to Edward III. in his French Wars
by the Citizens of London ....
16 Military Citizen .....
• John Hawk wood .....
^predations committed by John Mercer .
^pture of Mercer by John Philpot • •
[• William Walworth .....
le Wat Tyler Insurrection ....
.^ath of Wat Tyler
•rest and Execution of the Insurrectionists .
jception of Jack Cade by the London Citizens
obberies committed by Jack Cade . .
Btermination of the Citizens to oppose Jack
Cade's Entrance into London • . .
igagement between the London Citizens and
Jack Cade and his followers
le Martial Exercises of Old Military London .
uster or Review of the Citizens before the King
jin 1532
ress of the Lord Mayor and the City Au-
thorities on the Occasion of theMuster in 1532
ilitary Exercises in use amongst the Citizens
in the Sixteenth Century ....
stablishment of the Artillery Company in 1585
ield Strength supplied by the City at the Time of
the expected Arrival of the Spanish Armada .
lips supplied by the City in 1 587 . .
ecline of the Artillery Company after the Dis-
comfiture of the Spanish Armada . .
evival of the Artillery Company in 1610 •
he Armoury of the Artillery Company .
Paob
321
322
322
322
323
323
323
323
324
324
324
324
324
324
325
325
325
326
326
326
327
327
328
328
.328
328
329
329
329
329
329
330
Description of the Artillery Garden
Removal of the Artillery Gardens from Bishops-
gate Street to Bunhill Fields . .
Annual Musters of the City Militia .
The Meetings in the Artillery Gardens regarded
with Abhorrence by the Puritans .
Attempts of Charles I. to keep the People of
London to his Cause .....
Muster of the Citizens in Finshury Fields in
May, 1642
Attempt of Prince Rupert to force his Way into
London .......
Address of Skippon to his Soldiers . .
Determination of the Londoners to Fortify the
City
Conduct of the London Citizens at the Battle of
Newbury ...,,,.
Act passed for the raising of Two Regiments of
Militia in the City
Yolunteer Force raised by the Citizens of Lon-
don during the Period of the Wars with Na-
poleon .......
The Hall and Armoury of the Artillery Company
Regulations and Arrangements of the Artillery
Company .......
The Artillery Gardens the chief Place for the
Settlement of Cricket Matches during the
Eighteenth Century .....
Ascent of a balloon from the Artillery Gardens
in 1783 .......
Account of the Ascent of M. Lunardi in a Bal-
loon from the Artillery Gardens in 1784
Influence exerted over the destinies of England
by the Citizens of London ....
Fortification of the City during the quarrel be-
tween Henry III. and his Barons . .
Answer of the Citizens to Edward II. 's Request
of supplies of Men and Money ...
Attempt of Falconbridge to rescue Henry VI.
in 1471
Behaviour of the Citizens on the Occasions of
the attempted Insurrections of Wyatt arid
Essex .......
ILLUSTRATIONS.
The Council Chamber of the Artillery Company
Review of Volunteers by George III. at Hounslow
Soldier of the Trained Bands, 1638 .
Designers.
Shepherd
Fairholt
Engravers.
Welch
holloway
Horner
CXLVII.— ENDOWED AND MISCELLANEOUS CHARITIES.
nnual Income in London set apart for Public
Purposes ...... 337
icome of the Royal Hospitals . . . 337
icome of the City Companies . . . 337
icome of the Parochial Charities . . 337
mount of the Endowments for the purposes of
Education ...... 337
amerous Endowments founded by the Citizens
of London in every County in England . 338
Endowment of a Grammar School at Rugby by
Lawrence Sherift' .....
Grammar School at Tunb ridge founded by Sir
Andrew Judd ......
Charities established in London before the Re-
formation ......
Origin of the Custom of celebrating Obits •
Chantry Services maintained by the Merchant
Tailors' Company .....
330
330
331
331
331
331
332
332
332
332
333
334
334
334
334
334
334
335
335
335
335
335
321
333
336
338
338
338
339
339
XXil
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Bequest of Sir John Percival for securing the
Services of the Church ....
Custom observed in keeping the Obits of the
Drapers' Company .....
Ordinance made by the Goldsmiths' Company
in 1521 respecting the keeping of Obits .
Estates of the Goldsmiths' Company given up to
the Crown in 1546 .....
Objects to which the Endowments of the City
Companies were generally applied after the
Reign of Edward VI. ....
Ordinary Parochial Charities of the City .
Number of Almshouses in London . .
Foundation of the Royal Hospital of St. Kathe-
rine by Queen Matilda in 1148
The perpetual custody of St. Katherine's granted
to the Monastery of the Holy Trinity .
Suit brought against the Monks of the Holy
Trinity by Queen Eleanor in 1255
Charter granted to St. Katherine's by Queen
Eleanor in 1273 .....
Privileges granted to St. Katherine's in 1442
Revenues of St. Katherine's in the Reign of
Henry VIII
Rules for the better government of St. Kathe-
rine's drawn up in 1698 ....
Establishment of a School at the charge of St.
Katherine's in 1705 .....
Construction in 1824 of the Docks on the site
of the Chapel, Hospital, and entire Precinct
of St. Katherine .....
Site on the east side of the Regent's Park
granted for the erection of the new Hospital
of St. Katherine .....
Restoration of the Monuments in the new Cha-
pel of St. Katherine .....
Affairs of St. Katherine's Hospital managed by
a Chapter ......
Establishment of the Drapers' Almshouses in
Page
339
339
340
340
340
340
340
341
341
341
341
341
342
342
342
342
342
342
343
343
Almshouses of the Merchant Tailors , ,
St. Peter's Hospital .....
Whittington's College • . . , ,
Morden College ......
Number and Magnitude of the miscellaneous
Charities of the Metropolis •
Orphan Societies in London
The National Guardian Institution , .
School for the Indigent Blind
Deaf and Dumb Asylum in the Kent Road
Naval Charities of London ....
The Charitable Sisters and the Widows' Friend
Society .......
The Prison Discipline Society in Aldermanbury
Refuge for the Destitute at Hackney •
Female Penitentiary at Pentonville . ,
The National Benevolent Institution
Charities in London whose operations are based
upon a local principle ....
Society of Friends of Foreigners in Distress •
The Mendicity Society the most important of
its kind in London . . , , ,
Amount of Mendicancy in the Metropolis .
Houses of Nightly Relief for the Poor
West-End Nightly Institution in the Edgeware
Road .......
New Institution lately established under the
auspices of the Bishop of London . ,
The Humane Society . . » . ,
Incident related by Chateaubriand at the Lite-
rary Fund Dinner in 1822 . .
Operations of the Literary Fund during the Year
ending February, 1843 . . . ,
Curiosities preserved in the Rooms of the Lite-
rary Fund Society .....
Translation of Milton's ' Paradise Lost' into the
Icelandic Tongue .....
Society for the Relief of Distressed Schoolmas-
LcPS • • • • • • •
Letter from the King of the French to Dr. Kelly
A
3(
sJ
34
34
34
34
34
34
34
34
34
34
34
34
34|
34i
34!
361
35|
35(
35(
3M
35]
sd
3di
335
ILLUSTRATIONS.
77. Royal Hospital of St. Katherine, Regent's Park
78. Bedesman ........
79. Procession of Freemasons' Orphans at Freemasons' Hall.
From Stothard .......
Designers.
Anelay
Sly
Tiffin
E ngravers.
Jackson
Sly .
CXLVIIL— TATTERSALL'S.
Early Regulations of Tattersall's . . . 353
Richard Tattersall 354
Highflyer the foundation of Richard Tattersall's
fortune ....... 354
Portraits of Richard Tattersall in the possession
of his Family ...... 354
John Watson, training and riding-groom to Cap-
tain Vernon ...... 355
Extracts from Holcroft's Autobiographical Sketch 355
Heavy responsibilities of the training-groom . 356
Qualities required to make a first-rate training-
groom ....... 357
The Subscription Room at Tattersall's • . 357
The Court- Yard at Tattersall's . . . 357
Portrait of Reay in the Old Subscription Room
at Tattersall's . .... 357
The Counting- House at Tattersall's . . 358
Servants of Tattersall's ..... 358
Pump in the Court-Yard of Tattersall's . . 358
Bust of George IV. in the Court- Yard . . 358
Stables at Tattersall's 359
Tattersall's on a Public Day .... 359
Attendants at Tattersall's on Show and Sale
XJays ... ....
Character of the company at Tattersall's . .
The Jockey .......
Casual Visitors at Tattersall's ....
Situation of Tattersall's ....
The Prince of Wales one of the earliest and most
regular Visitors at Tattersall's
Strange variety of Personages associated within
the walls of Tattersall's ....
Lord Wharncliffe a frequenter of Tattersall's •
Good service done to the Country Gentlemen by
Lord Wharncliffe in 1819 ....
Sir Francis Burdett .....
Opening of Tattersall's in 1779 . . .
Crabbe's first visit to London in 1780
Philip Astley's exhibitions in 1780 .
Death of Samuel Johnson in 1783
Extension of the range of business under the
direction of the present proprietor of Tatter-
sall's .......
Mr. Tattersall's Stud-Farm at Willesden .
361
361
363
362
362
362
362
363
363
363
363
363
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
XXI u
le Auction Mart originally instituted by Richard
iTattersall .......
Uth of Richard Tattersall in 1795
Eath of the first Edmund Tattersall in 1810 .
Emg of the Turf and Hunting-Field
fneficial efi"ects of Tattersall's
»rse-Racing a passion with the people of Eng-
land • .•••••
Page
364
364
364
364
364
365
Holcroft's Love for Horses ....
Commencement of the career of Philip Astley .
Races in England • • . . .
Introduction of Sweepstakes in the beginning of
the Reign of George III. . . . .
The Derby Clubs ......
Attempts making to purify the provincial Race-
Courses ......
Page
365
365
366
367
367
368
< Highflyer not to be Sold.'
Court-Yard, Tattersall's .
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Richard Tattersall, ob. 1795, set. 72
Designers.
Engravers.
Tiffin
Jackson
. 353
Harvey
) >
. 368
CXLIX.— LEARNED SOCIETIES.
Icieties formed in London since the middle of
[the Eighteenth Century ....
jrigin of the Royal Society of Literature
lill powers received by Bishop Burgess to make
|the necessary arrangements for the formation
fof the Royal Society .....
ifficulties attending the permanent settlement
of the Royal Society .....
Batement in the Royal Charter granted by
[George IV. of the views of the Royal Society
jnsions and Medals annually bestowed by the
[Royal Society ......
arsons who have received the Pensions and
[Medals bestowed by the Royal Society .
jssation of the Pensions on the Death of
[George lY. ......
icreasing prosperity enjoyed by the Royal
(Society .......
sgacy bequeathed to the Royal Society by Dr.
I Richards .......
iluable Works published by the Royal Society
iportant Works published by the Society for
[the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge
)undation of the Society for the Diifusion of
[Useful Knowledge in 1826
)rmation of the Linna&an Society in 1788
Ibrary and Herbarium of Linnaeus in the pos-
I session of the Linnsean Society . . .
le Royal Astronomical Society . . .
ilculating Machine invented by Mr. Babbage
roceedings of the Royal Geographical Society
jpeditions sent out by the Geographical Society
liscourse by Mr. Faraday delivered at the Royal
Institution in Albemarle Street . .
Jtter from Southey to William Taylor in 1799
Humphry Davy's principal motive in coming
to London ......
le Laboratory of the Royal Institution .
|r Humphry Davy's boldness in experimenting
jxtract from the * Memoirs of Sir Humphry
Davy' .......
370
370
371
371
371
371
371
372
372
372
372
372
372
373
373
373
373
.373
374
374
374
374
375
375
375
Lecture on Galvanism delivered by Sir Humphry
Davy in the Year 1801 ....
Lectures on Poetry delivered by Coleridge at the
Royal Institution .....
Objects of the Royal Institution
The Invisible or Philosophical Society
Society formed at Oxford during the Common-
wealth .......
Lectures delivered at the Gresham College in 1659
Formation of the Royal Society on the Restoration
Resolutions drawn up on the formation of the
Royal Society ......
Outline of the original views of the Royal Society
Division of the Royal Society into Committees
in 1644
Distinguished Members of the Royal Society
Description by Sorbiere of a Meeting of the
Members of the Royal Society . . ,
The Royal Society at the present Day . .
Sir Humphry Davy's scheme for the extension
of the Royal Society .....
Subjects at present engaging the attention of the
Royal Society ......
Antarctic Expedition under Captain James Ross
Medals conferred at the Anniversary Meetings
of the Royal Society .....
Private Re-unions of the Members of the Royal
Society .......
Amount of the entrance-money and yearly sub-
scription to the Royal Society
Newton excused, in 1674, from making the cus-
tomary payment to the Royal Society .
Advantages accruing to the Members of the
Royal Society ......
Attempts of the Society of Antiquaries to obtain
a Charter of Incorporation previous to the
Year 1617
New Society of Antiquaries Established in 1707
Charter obtained by the Society of Antiquaries
in 1750
Works Published by the Society of Antiquaries
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Royal Institution, Albemarle Street
Sir Humphry Davy .
Seal of the Royal Society .
'). Royal Society's Apartments
Designers.
Tiffin
Fairholt
Tiffin
Engravers.
Jackson
FOLKARD
Sly
Jackson
376
376
376
377
377
377
377
377
378
378
379
379
380
381
381
381
382
382
383
383
383
383
383
384
384
369
376
378
380
XXIV
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CL.— COURTS OF LAW.
Page
The Law Quarter of London .... 385
London and Country Attorneys . . . 385
Geographical Distribution of the London and
Country Attorneys ..... 386
Offices attached to the Courts of Law . . 386
Situation of the Courts of Law . . . 386
Origin of the Courts of Law .... 386
The Aula Regis ..••*. 386
The Great Council essentially a Legislative Body
in the Reign of Edward III. . . .387
The Office of Chief Justiciar abolished in the
Reign of Edward III 387
The Court of Exchequer the lowest in rank of
the Superior Courts ..... 387
Act passed in 1832 for Assimilating the Practice
of the Common Law Courts . , . 387
The Court of Exchequer Chamber erected in
1358 387
The Courts of Equity 388
Two additional Vice-Chancellors appointed by
Act of Parliament in 1841 . . . .388
The Lord Chancellor usually an Ecclesiastic be-
fore the Reformation ..... 388
Duties and Functions of the Lord Chancellor . 388
The Master of the Rolls , . . .388
Associations connected with the Courts of Law 389
General Appearance of the Courts at West-
minster ....... 389
Inconvenience of the Arrangements in the Courts
of Law 389
Career of Earl Camden ..... 390
Lord Loughborough ..... 390
PaoiI
Eccentricities of Lord Thurlow • . .39]
Thurlow made Lord Chancellor in 1773 . . 39^
Lord Mansfield's Powers as an Advocate . . 392
Lord Mansfield's Retirement from the Bench in
1788 395
Parliamentary Talents of Erskine . . .392
Lord Brougham's Sketch of Erskine in his
* Statesmen of the Reign of George III.' , 393
Erskine's Argumentative Powers . . . 393
Erskine's Qualifications as a Nisi Prius Advo-
cate ....... 394
Character of Erskine . . . . .394
Erskine appointed Lord Chancellor in 1806 . 395
Judicial Qualifications of Lord Ellenborough . 395J
The Peculiarities [of Lord Eldon's Professional
Life as sketched by Lord Brougham . . 396
Superiority of Lord Eldon over Coke . . 396 i
Lord Stowell 397i
The Consistorial Courts. . . . .397}
Sir William Grant Master of the Rolls during
the Chancellorship of Lord Eldon . . 397
Lord Brougham's notice of Sir William Grant }
as a Parliamentary Speaker. . . . 398 j
Lord Brougham's picture of the Rolls' Court in
the Time of Sir William Grant . . .398
Habits of Sir William Grant . . , .399
Career and Merits of Sir Samuel Romilly. . 399
Examination of Lord Langdale before a Parlia-
mentary Committee ..... 399
Sites proposed as suitable for the erection of
New Courts of Law ..... 399
Mr. Barry's Design for the New Courts of Law . 400
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Designers.
Anelay
3 y
3 3
86. Lord Chancellor's Court, Westminster Hall . .
87. Earl Camden, from a Painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds
88. Lord Loughborough
89. Lord Thurlow .
90. Lord Mansfield (from a Medal)
91. Lord Ellenborough .
92. The Earl of Eldon
93. Lord Stowell
94. Sir William Grant
95. Lord Chancellor Bathurst and the Six Clerks' Office in
Chancery Lane (from a Medal) . .... Clarke
3 3
Clarke
Tiffin
3 3
3 3
3 3
Engravers.
!
Jackson .
. 385
3 3 •
. 390
Wakefield ,
391
Gray . ,
, 391
Jackson .
392
3 3
. 395
33 • '
396
3 3 •
397
3 3 • •
397
400
[St. Olave's School.]
CXXVL— EDUCATION IN LONDON.
4
No. I. — Ancient.
T is fortunate, in one respect at least, that our ancient English historians had
lOt the same view as the moderns of the dignity of history, for if they had we
Ishould have been often told of men and things, instead of having them vividly
\shown to us ; we should have had polished periods, and critical acumen, and
weighty philosoph}^ but we should have lost the gossip, frequently so instructive,
and generally so entertaining and characteristic. That there was, for instance, a
free school at Westminster so early as the reign of the Confessor, in which gram-
mar and logic were taught, and that the Queen Edgitha took a personal interest
in it, are valuable facts when we consider that they are the very earliest of which
we have any cognizance relating to the great subject of education in the metro-
polis, and derive interest, however told, from that consideration, whenever the
subject is before us; but if they are to remain Avith us at all times in the memory,
and be frequently recalled with pleasure to the thoughts, they must be made
interesting in themselves ; we must learn them, as in the present case, from such
relaters as Ingulphus. This writer, the well-known monk of Croyland, having
spoken of himself as an humble servant of God, born of English parents, in the
most beautiful city of London, and told us that to attain to learning he was put
to Westminster School, further informs us, " I have seen how, often, when being but
a boy, I came to see my father, dwelling in the King's court, and often coming from
school, when I met the queen, she would oppose me touching my learning and
lesson. And falling from grammar to logic, wherein she had some knowledge, she
VOL. VI. B
2 LONDON.
would subtilly conclude an argument with me. And by her handmaiden give
me three or four pieces of money, and send me unto the palace, where I should
receive some victuals, and then be dismissed."* From Westminster School, Ingul-
i^hus went to Oxford, where he studied the Aristotelian philosophy, and the
rhetorical writings of Cicero : the first express mention also, by the way, of the
famous university. How long before this period the school in question may
have existed, what other schools were contemporary with or may have preceded
it, or what was the nature of the studies generally pursued, are questions that
can be only answered by a glance at the general state of education in England
during these early ages.
It is a remarkable circumstance that the man to whom we owe the establish-
ment of Christianity among us, Augustin, should also be the presumed founder of
our earliest schools, those at Canterbury, where the golden book of the learning
in philosophy of the ancients was, it is supposed, first opened to the eyes of our
countrymen. Augustin's successor in the archbishopric, Theodore, greatly im-
proved and enlarged these schools, and, with his friend Adrian, as Bede tells us,
personally instructed crowds of pupils in divinity, astronomy, medicine, arith-
metic, and in the Greek and Latin languages. The impulse thus given spread.
Schools multiplied until in a very short space of time they were to be found
generally in connexion with monasteries, and more particularly at the different
seats of the bishops. London therefore, in the seventh century, had doubtless
schools of some kind, most probably the original foundations of the present
St. Paul's and Westminster. But good teachers could no more be created sud-
denly then than now ; and, in consequence, the relations of the sister island and
England assumed an aspect curiously opposed to all that has since characterised
them. Ireland, strange as the statement seems to us, was the chief seat of Euro-
pean learning during the seventh and the two or three following centuries : thither,
accordingly, in common with students from different parts of the continent, flocked
our English youth; and the circumstances under which they were received
appear still more extraordinary. Bede, having told us it was customary for
English of all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, to retire to Ireland for study
and devotion, adds, that they were hospitably received, and supplied gratuitously
with food, with books, and with instruction. This was, indeed, making tuition a
labour of love ; — learning, and the diffusion of it, its own reward. Bede's state-
ment is corroborated by his contemporary Aldhelm, whose remarks are the more
significant that they come in the shape of a complaint of such a state of things.
*'Why," says he, ''should Ireland, whither troops of students arc daily trans-
ported, boast of such unspeakable excellence, as if in the rich soil of England,
Greek and Roman masters were not to be had to unlock the treasures of divine
knowledge? Though Ireland, rich and blooming in scholars, is adorned like the
poles of the world with innumerable bright stars, it is Britain has her radiant
sun, her sovereign pontiff, Theodore ;" who, it may be as well to observe, was a
patron of Aldhelm. It was probably to check this wholesale emigration, as
well as from a conviction of their superiority, that Irish teachers were obtained for
some of the more eminent of the English schools. Alcuin, one of the most learned
men of the eighth century, has given us an interesting account of what he learnt
* Transcribed from Stow's Survey, ed. 1633; p. QZ,
EDUCATION IN LONDON. 3
the school at York, where he was educated, and what he himself afterwards
ught, when he had become eminent as a teacher. The former comprised, in
dition to grammar, rhetoric, and poetry, in which Alcuin was evidently a pro-
cient, " the harmony of the sky, the labour of the sun and moon, the five zones,
e seven wandering planets, the laws, risings, and settings of the stars, and the
rial motions ; of the sea, earthquakes, the nature of man, cattle, birds, and
ild beasts, with their various kinds and forms, and the sacred Scriptures ;"
hilst as to the latter Alcuin tells us, " To some I administer the honey of the
cred writings ; others I try to inebriate with the wine of the ancient classics. I
egin the nourishment of some with the apples of grammatical subtlety. I strive
illuminate many by the arrangement of the stars, as from the painted roof of a
fty palace." Alcuin's instruction combined, in short, what in the phraseology of
e time was called the totum scihile, or entire circle of human learnins:.
The impulse, however, originally given by Augustin and Theodore to learning
England, was gradually subsiding even at this time ; and before the piratical
anes appeared to level learning, religion, civilization, and freedom, in one com-
on ruin, scarcely a single school of the highest class seems to have been pre-
rved in its integrity. It is well known that Alfred, in the second half of the
inth century, could find no masters to instruct him in the higher branches of
nowledge. This simple fact tells us all we can need to know with regard to the
ate of education in the metropolis at the time. That truly great monarch,
owever, had scarcely obtained peace in his dominions before he set himself
arnestly to the task of removing the dreary state of ignorance in which he found
is country, and of which he had himself so seriously felt the disadvantages.
e invited to his court the best scholars of the period from all quarters. At
e age of forty he began the study of Latin; with what admirable object
t his own words to Wulfsig, Bishop of London, declare : — '' I think it better,"
e says, " if you think so, that we also translate some books, the most necessary
r all men to know, that we may all know them ; and we may do this with God's
elp very easily, if we have peace ; so that all the youth that are now in Eng-
nd, who are freemen, and possess sufficient wealth, may for a time apply to no
ther task till they first well know to read English. Let those learn Latin after-
ards, who will know more, and advance to a higher condition." It is most pro-
able that the principal schools of a former time that had been destroyed with
he monasteries by the Danes, or which had sunk into decay with the previous
ecay of learning, were now restored, and animated by a new spirit. But
Alfred's biographer, Asser, only expressly mentions the one he founded for the
ions of the nobility, and for the support of which he devoted the enormous amount
l)f one-eighlh of his kingly revenue. This school must have presented an
nteresting scene. In it were to be found the nobleman of mature age almost
commencing his education side-by-side with the youthful son of the wealthy
ourgher (for Asser expressly says the school was attended by many of the inferior
|jlasses), and with the servant of some other man of rank, who, having neither son
lor kinsman, thus availed himself of the final alternative which could alone
3xcuse his own absence : the King was determined they should read one way or
mother, either with their own eyes, or with the eyes of those who would be
generally about them, and ordained accordingly. This school has been supposed
b2
4 LONDON.
to have been the commencement of the University of Oxford, a supposition, how
ever, utterly unsupported by any evidence of weight, and which has therefort
been rejected by some of our best writers. Is it not then most probable that the
seat of this important establishment was London, which we know to have enjoyec
Alfred's especial care and attention ? If he did not, like the Roman Emperor
find a city of brick and leave it of marble, he found it of wood, and left it of brid
and stone. The period from Alfred's reign to that of the Confessor, when In
gulphus was a scholar at Westminster, was marked by a second decline of edu-
cation^ in consequence of the wars that preceded the conquest by Canute, and
then a new rise, through the liberality and wisdom of that monarch, when he was
firmly settled upon the throne.
The next direct record that we possess, with regard to the early schools oj
London, is no less interesting than that left us by In gulphus, and somewhat
more detailed. This is Fitz- Stephen's, the secretary of Thomas A'Becket, whose
account of London, during the reign of Henry II., we have so often had occasior
to mention in our pages. " In the reign of King Stephen and of Henry 11./
he writes, '' there were in London three principal churches which had famous
schools, either by privilege or ancient dignity, or by favour of some particulail
persons, as of doctors, which were accounted notable and renowned for knowledge
in philosophy. And there were other inferior schools also. Upon festival days
the masters made solemn meetings in the churches, where their scholars disputed
logically and demonstratively ; some bringing en thy m ems, others perfect syllo
gisms ; some disputed for show, others to trace out the truth; and cunning
scholars were brave scholars when they flowed with words. Others used fallacies:
rhetoricians spoke aptly to persuade, observing the precepts of art, and omitting
nothing that might serve their purpose. The boys of divers schools did cap oi
pot verses; and contended of the principles of grammar. There were some^
which, on the other side, with epigrams and rhymes, nipping and quipping their
fellows, and the faults of others, though suppressing their names, moved thereby
much laughter among their auditors." We see here very plainly that love ol
wrangling, and disputation for its own sake, which was so characteristic of the
learned men of the middle ages, and which one of them, John of Salisbury, con
temporary with Fitz- Stephen, so pleasantly ridicules in his treatise Metalogicus,
where he describes them as exerting their intellects in the discussion of such
knotty questions as Whether a person in buying a whole cloak bought the cowl
also ; or as When a hog was carried to market with a rope about its neck, held at
the other end by a man, whether the man or the rope was really the carrier.
The scene of the discussions to which Fitz- Stephen refers, was the Churchyard of
St. Bartholomew, where the scholars sat on a '' bank boarded about under a
tree,'' as described by Stow, in whose time the custom still existed.* The three
principal schools mentioned by Fitz-Stephen are supposed by Stow to be those
respectively attached to the Cathedrals of St. Paul and Westminster, and to the
Abbey of Bermondsey : the ordinance of the General Council of Lateran, in
1 1 79, that there should be a school with a head teacher in every cathedral, who
should have authority over all the scholars of the diocese, making it tolerably
certain that there must have been a school then established at St. Paul's, if there
* See our account of the Piiory and Church of St. Bartholomew, No. XXVIII. p. 43.
EDUCATION IN LONDON. 5
|had not been one previously in existence, — Ingulphus's notice having determined
jthe fact of the existence of a school at Westminster, and there bein^ no other
,great religious house then founded in London to which the third school could
have belonged but Bermondse}' . From these notices we may jud(>*e that educa-
tion was progressing upon the whole, though with many pauses and o-oings back.
About this very time, or at least but a few years before, namely, in 1164, the
jEarl of Arundel, having been associated with other noblemen, and some ecclesi-
astical dignitaries, in an embassy from Henry to the Pope, found it necessary at
the close of the Latin harangues, delivered by his clerical companions, to com-
mence his own address in the mother-tongue thus : — '^ We, who are illiterate lay-
men, do not understand one word of what the Bishops have said to your Holi-
ness," &c. As an incidental feature of Metropolitan Education at the period in
question, it may be mentioned that the Jews had now a school in London as well
as in several other large towns of England; and the fact, taken in connexion
with the superior character of the education given in these schools — arithmetic
and medicine being generally taught with such higher branches of study as
Hebrew and Arabic — forms an instructive comment on the opinion which our
nobles and others made it the fashion to hold of the Jews, as to their debased
and avaricious nature. It is farther noticeable that the Jewish schools were
open to the children of Christians, and that the latter did not hesitate to allow
their children to participate in the advantages offered. Knowledge was then
even more emphatically power than now, because restricted to a smaller num-
ber : that any particular class of persons, but especially the Jews, who needed all
available weapons both of offence and defence against the oppressions to which
they were subject, should have been ready to impart their knowledge, does seem
to be a highly honourable circumstance. Only last century, the governors of a
school not many hundred yards distant from the locality where the ancient Jews
resided, and where, no doubt, was their school, excluded Jews by express ordi-
nance from the benefit of an institution founded for the children of all nations
and countries indifferently : we allude to the Merchant Tailors !
Again, for a century or more, the history of Metropolitan Education is a blank ;
but there are satisfactory and interesting evidences that the education itself must
have been progressing rapidly during a part at least of the period. At the
beginning of the fourteenth century we are told, and the statement seems all but
incredible, that there were 30,000 students at Oxford, and probably still more at
Paris : it has been truly said that this looks something like an almost universal
diffusion of education. Ingulphus's brief personal history shows us that Oxford,
even in the eleventh century, had assumed the character it has ever since main-
tained, that of a place for instruction in the higher branches of learning in their
highest stages of development only. How numerous and how efficient then must
have been the preliminary schools of England and France in the fourteenth cen-
tury to supply such an army of students ! And what was the quality of the
education whilst the quantity was so extraordinary ? We may partly answer by
a little anecdote. In 1362 the Rector and Masters of the Faculty of Arts, in the
University of Paris, petitioned for the postponement of the hearing of a cause in
which they were concerned, on grounds that a dignitary of Oxford or Cambridge
of the present day would certainly never guess : '' We have," said they, *^ diffi-
6 LONDON.
culty in finding the money to pay the Procurators and Advocates, whom it is
necessary for us to employ — we whose profession it is to possess no wealth.''^ When
men of learning devoted themselves to the business of education, and could think
and speak thus, who can doubt that education must have been essentially high?
Chaucer, who, after receiving in all probability the rudiments of knowledge in
a London school, passed through the Universities of Cambridge, Oxford, and
Paris, will satisfy us that such sentiments were by no means confined to the
other side of the Channel ; indeed, we may observe in passing, that the two coun-
tries were evidently engaged in a very different and thousand times more glorious
kind of contest than that which, at the same time, was draining the blood and
treasure of both ; and a most interesting feature of the period it is — this contest —
this under-current of sympathy, such as kindred tastes, objects, and success must
have caused between the men of learning of France and England, under circum-
stances so adverse to their existence. To return : Chaucer's character of the
Clerk in the ' Canterbury Tales,* to which we referred, is decisive both as to the
honourable and cheerfully-accepted poverty, which was the lot of a scholar in the
fourteenth century, and of the high standard of moral as well as intellectual
perfection which Universities then must have had in view.
" A Clerk there was of Oxenford also
That unto logic hadde long ygo ;*
As lene was his horse as is a rake ;
And he was not right fat, I undertake.
But looked hollow, and thereto soberly.
Full threadbare was his overest coiirtepy.
For he had getten him yet no benefice,
Ne was nought worldly to have an office ;
For him was lever have at his bed's head
A twenty bookes, clothed in black or red, »
Of Aristotle, and his philosophy,
Than robes rich, or fiddle, or sautrie ;
But all be that he was a philosopher.
Yet had he but little gold in coffer ;
But all that he might of his friendes hent, t
On bookes and on learning he it spent ;
And busily gan for the soules pray
Of them that gave him wherewith to scholay.
Of study took he moste care and heed :
Not a word spake he more than was need ;
And that was said in form and reverence,
And short and quick, and full of high sentence.
Sounding in moral virtue was his speech,
And gladly would he learn, and gladly teach."
Much difference exists in the present day as to both the end and the means of
education ; for our part we should desire no better evidence of one good system
at least, than that it leaves men in the position described in the last of these
noble lines.
The schools of London still continued attached (probably exclusively) to the
religious houses, and increased as they increased. A proof of the regular nature
of the connexion is to be found in the circumstances attending the gradual
dissolution of the latter from the time of Henry V. downwards. Stow, alluding
* Gone. f Borrow.
EDUCATION IN LONDON. 1
that monarch's suppression of the alien Priories, does not think it necessary to
ate formally that those of London had schools attached to them, but goes on
speak of the schools that were then broken up as a natural consequence, and
0 point out that Henry VL, to remedy the evil, appointed that there should be
Grammar Schools at St. Martin's-le-Grand, St. Mary-le-Bow, Cheapside, St. Dun-
tan's in the West, and St. Anthony's Hospital. The year following this ordinance,
rin 1446, four other Grammar Schools were added by Parliament, namely, in the
arishcs of St. Andrew's, Holborn, AUhallows the Great, St. Peter's, Cornhill,
,nd St. Thomas-of- Aeon's Hospital, Cheapside. It may be doubted whether this
ast measure proceeded beyond the stage of enactment ; certain it is that, ten
ears later, we find four clergymen of the City petitioning Parliament for the
ower of providing each a Grammar School '* to teach all that will come ;" one of
these was John Neil, the Master of St. Thomas-of- Aeon's. The petitioners
Icomplained at the same time that teaching had become a monopoly, and observed,
''' Where there is a great number of learners and few teachers, and all the learners
are compelled to go to the few teachers, and to none others, the masters wax
rich in money, and the learners poor in learning, as experience openly showeth,
against all virtue and order of public weal." Comparing the state of things
here revealed, with that of the preceding century, we have another striking
evidence of the exceedingly fluctuating character of the history of education in
ithis country. The prayer of the petition having been granted, a school was
ifounded by John Neil and his associates in connexion with their establishment ;
from that the present Mercers' School may be said to be descended.
The Reformation in England had a two-fold effect upon education; by break-
ing up the religious houses it destroyed nearly the whole of our schools ; on the
other hand the general awakening of intellect which characterised the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries, and of which the Reformation itself may be said to be but
one effect, was evidently in the highest degree favourable to the inculcation of
knowledge. The intense desire for classical learning (which, preceding the re-
ligious movement, was afterwards strongly acted upon and forwarded by it, chiefly
through the circumstance that the Greek Version of the New Testament became
the universal standard of authority to which the Reformers appealed in all their
religious contests) was a still more direct influence tending to the establishment
and diff'usion of education. New Colleges at the Universities sprang into exist-
ence with startling rapidity ; new schools were established almost as fast as the
reforming king had destroyed them. Hence it is that of the exceedingly numer-
ous body of grammar-schools scattered over every part of the country, nearly the
whole were founded in one centur}^ the sixteenth ; hence it is that the whole of
the older schools of the metropolis, with the single exception of the Charter
House, founded in the beginning of the seventeenth, date their establishment on
the present basis from the same period. Of these, Christ's Hospital, and the
Charter House, having been already treated of at length in our pages, need not
further be referred to here.
We may infer from the personal history of Colet, the founder of the earliest
of these last-mentioned establishments, that the ordinary motives of a religious
Reformer of the sixteenth century for desiring the extension of education, acted
upon him with so much force as to lead in a great measure to the foundation of
8
LONDON.
the school. His appointment as Dean of St. Paul's was soon distinguished
by his vigorous and searching discipline ; among other matters recorded of
him, it appears, he introduced the practice of preaching himself on Sundays and
^UJii^^i^S :
[St. Paul's School, St. Paul's Clmrchyard, as it appeared before the Fin- of London.]
great festival days. The more luxurious of the clergy could perhaps have for-
given this inroad upon their habits ; but the use to which he directed his public
preachings, as well as his private influence and conversation — his freedom of
opinion — his contempt for the abuses of the religious houses — his aversion to
clerical celibacy — above all his inclination to the new principles of which he was
indirectly one of the most active promoters ; — all this they could not forgive.
Dean Colet very naturally, as his biographer tells us, became highly obnoxious
to the metropolitan clergy. They even had a notion of honouring him by a
Smithfield martyrdom. No man could better afford such dislike, for no man
had truer or better friends. Linacre, the eminent physician, the founder of the
College of Physicians, and one of the best scholars of the age, was one of them.
Latimer was another. Both these, with Lyl}^ the first master of Colet's school,
he had become acquainted within Italy, where the three were all studying Greek,
and where Colet himself had gone for general improvement. Of the relations
between Colet and the illustrious author of the ' Utopia,' the following passage
from one of More's letters, written to the former while he was abroad, will give the
best idea. " Return, therefore, my dear Colet ; either for Stepney's sake [\vher6
Colet then resided], which mourneth for your absence, no less than children do
for the absence of their loving mother ; or else for London's sake, in respect it is
your native country, whereof you can have no less regard than of your parents;
and, finally (though this be the least motive), return for my sake, who have
wholly dedicated myself to your directions, and do most earnestly long to see you.
In the mean time I pass my time with Grocine, Lanacer [Linacre], and Lily ; the
first being, as you know, the director of my life in your absence ; the second, the
master of my studies; the third, my most dear companion. Farewell, and see
you love me as you have done hitherto. — London, 21st Oct., about 1510." The
delightful spirit that pervades these sentences needs no comment. They come
from the heart, and therefore speak directly to it. Lastl}^ Erasmus was, if pos-
sible, even more than any of these the constant companion of Colet, when in
EDUCATION IN LONDON.
pngland, his constant correspondent when abroad. And the unflinching nervous
iitellect and irrepressible enthusiasm of the Dean must have finely contrasted
j/ith the subtler but more temporising spirit of the eminent Reformer. Colet's
>iographer, Knight, has given us a pleasant peep into the privacy of their
ociety, on an occasion when their respective characteristics were happily shown.
ie refers to a period immediately following the commencement of their intimacy.
' These two friends, being now happy in each other's acquaintance, were not
wanting to improve it to the mutual benefit of one another, particularly at a
)ublic dinner in the University, after a Latin sermon ; where the table talk was
cholastical and theological. Master Colet sitting as Moderator. Among other
liscourse, Colet said that Cain's greatest offence, and the most odious in God's
light, was his distrusting the bounty of our great Creator^ and placing too much
:onfidcnce in his own art and industry, and so tilling the ground ; while his
Drother Abel, content with the natural productions of the earth, was only feed-
ng sheep. Upon this argument the whole company engaged ; the divine arguing
by strict syllogisms, while Erasmus opposed in a more loose and rhetorical
manner. ' But in truth,' said Erasmus, ' this one divine. Master Colet, was
more than a match for us all. He seemed to be filled with a Divine Spirit, and
to be somewhat above a man : he spoke not only with his voice, but with his
eyes, his countenance, and his whole demeanour.' When the disputation grew
too long, and was too grave and severe for such a cheerful entertainment,
Erasmus broke it off by telling an old story of Cain, from a pretended ancient
author, though purely of his own invention on the spot ; and so they parted friends."^
jls not this Erasmus all over ? — the man who led the way to the Reformation by
[his witty exposure of the abuses of the Roman Catholic Church, but left others
to undertake the business of reformation ; the man, in short, who, as it was said,
laid the egg of the Reformation, but left Luther to hatch it ? To the foregoing
particulars of Colet, we must add a few derived from Erasmus, who gives us
some interesting particulars of the domestic life of his friend; — of his dining
without state among his family, but always, if possible, with some strangers for
his guests, — of his short sitting at meals, that there might be more time after for
the discourses which pleased only the learned and the good, — of the preliminary
j reading of the chapter from the Bible by some boy with a good voice, as sugges-
jtive of the matter of the discourse, — of his servant reading to him when he had
jno companions to his mind, — of his dress, plain black, while the clergy generally
jof his rank wore purple, — of his hospitality in handing over regularly to his
I steward the entire receipts of his offices in the church for the maintenance of his
j household, whilst he kept his own private estate for charitable uses. Such was
i Dean Colet, the man who, in 1509, devoted nearly the whole of that private estate
j to the admirable purpose of founding St. Paul's School ; where children of every
nation, country, and class were to be educated free, to the number of 153: the
I number, with that fondness for conceit peculiar to the time, is borrowed from the
I number of fish taken by St. Peter. This school he endowed with lands and
i houses to the value of 122/. 4^. 7id., now worth between 5000Z. and 6000/. That
a clergyman should have stepped out of his class to find trustees among laymen,
and more particularly with regard to a school founded upon an older establishment
* Knight, p. 39.
10 LONDON.
that had always been under the direction of the Cathedral dignitaries, is of itselif
a significant feature of Colet's views with relation to the religious differences!
of the period, and agrees in the main with Erasmus's statement. *' After he had,
finished all/' he says in a letter to Justus lonas, '• he left the perpetual care andl
oversight of the estate, not to the clergy, not to the bishop, not to the chapter,!
nor to any great minister at court, but amongst the married laymen, to the Com-|
pany of Mercers, men of probity and reputation. And when he was asked the
reason of so committing the trust, Ke answered to this effect — that there was no
absolute certainty in human affairs; but, for his part, he found less corruption in
such a body of citizens than in any other order or degree of mankind." If ever
trustees were solemnly called upon to discharge their duties with fidelity, and in aj
mode that should at the same time animate them with the best possible spirit fori
so doing, it was surely in such words. We are afraid, however, that if the Dean
were aware that his property had increased so greatly, whilst the scholars
remained at the magical number of 153, and that the classics, then in many re-
spects so much more important than now, were all that these 153 are taught, he
would hardly compliment the trustees on their observance of the spirit of his
wishes : he might be apt to ask even what attention had been paid to their letter,
Considering that he had expressly empowered the Company of Mercers to make
such other regulations for the governance of the school as time and circumstances
might render necessary, with the advice and assistance of "good, lettered, and
learned men." The first head master appointed by the Dean was William Lily,
the eminent grammarian, ''the most dear companion" of Sir Thomas More.
The choice was probably determined by that high idea of the value of classical
and especially of Greek learning and literature, which the Reformers in par-
ticular among our learned men had at the time in question, Lily being the first
teacher of Greek in the metropolis after the revival of letters. The success of
the school under Lily showed the Dean's selection to have been a wise one.
During the twelve years that he lived to conduct it, a host of excellent scholars
were sent forth into the different departments of public life, including such men
as Sir Anthony Denn}^ privy counsellor to Henry VIII., Sir Edward, afterwards
Lord North, and the eminent antiquary, Leland. It was not, however, without
considerable opposition and some obloquy, it would seem, that he and the
founder were allowed to carr}^ out their wishes of teaching the classics freely ; the
latter, in a letter to Erasmus, relates, that one of the prelates of the church, esteemed
among the most eminent for his learning and gravity, had, in a great public assem-
bly, accused him in the severest terms for suffering the Latin poets to be taught in
his new seminary, which, on that account, he styled a house of idolatry. Lily died
of the plague in 1523, six years after his friend and patron, Colet. The school at
present consists of eight forms or classes, the first receiving the pupil for instruc-
tion in the rudiments, the last dismissing him with a sound classical and mathe-
matical education, including the Greek, Latin, and Hebrew languages. The
school is strictly a free one. The age of scholars at admission must not exceed
fifteen. The Mercers' Company are the admitters. There are numerous exhibi-
tions at the University in connexion with the school. Of the eminent men since
Lily's time, who have been educated here, we must not forget such names as John
Milton, the physician Scarborough, the gossip Pepys, the divine Calamy, and the
EDUCATION IN LONDON.
11
. arrior Marlborough. We have given an engraving of the school as built by
Mlolet. The present building was erected in the years 1823-1824.
Pl The principal other old metropolitan schools were established in the following
rder :— the Mercers' own free-grammar school, in the latter part of the reign of
lenryVIII. ; the Merchant Tailors' in 1567; St. Saviour's, 1562; St. Olave's,
570; and Westminster, 1590. The Mercers' School originally, as we have seen,
)rmed a part of the Hospital of St. Thomas-of-Acon's, a religious establishment
f such great wealth and rank that its master, at the time of the dissolution, was
mitred abbot, and the revenues truly princely. Henry VIII. sold the buildings
nd a part of its land to the Mercers' Company, stipulating for once that the
^hool should be maintained. But the merit of this precaution seems to belong to
iv Thomas Gresham, who, Strype says, was instrumental in the making of the
rrangement. From this period the school became a regular free-school. In
804 the Company wisely departed from the strictly classical system previously
ursued, by including the other branches of a sound general education ; and in
809 increased the numbers of its scholars from 25 to 35, and since then again to
0: a circumstance highly creditable to the Company, and the more necessary to
0 mentioned inasmuch as we have alluded to the different mode in Avhich they
jiave dealt with the foundation of Dean Colet, at St. Paul's. There are no
'estrictions as to age or place of residence of scholars, but a certain amount of
)roficiency is deemed indispensable. The instruction is perfectly gratuitous;
,nd there is attached to the school the farther advantage of two University
xhibitions of 50/. per annum each, for five years, to reward occasionally the most
neritorious students. Of this school Colet was a member, also Sir Thomas
jresham. Sir Lionel, afterwards Lord, Cranfield, and Bishop Wren. The mas-
ers are four in number. The school, like that of St. Paul's, is constantly full.
The school of the Merchant Tailors is an honourable instance of the applica-
ion of surplus funds by a City company, assisting, as it does, to a considerable
-xtent, in the education of no less than 250 pupils. It was founded in 1561 for
hildren of all nations and countries indifferently, which in 1731 was interpreted
o mean that Jews were to be excepted, or else the Company had grown in the
nterim less tolerant in its views. Notwithstanding the Company's assistance,
he education is still expensive, averaging, on the whole, not less than ten pounds
[Merchant Tailors" School, Cannon Street.]
12 LONDON.
yearly. Attached to the school are thirty-seven fellowships at St. John's College
Oxford, founded by Sir Thomas White for its scholars : in consequence, severa
of the best are yearly sent to the University. A long list of eminent names grace
the pages of the school-records of Merchant Tailors' : we read there Lancelo
Andrews, Juxon, Charles I.'s spiritual companion on the scaffold, William Lowtl
the elder, and who is said to have been a profounder scholar even than his bette:
known son, the translator of Isaiah, Sandys, the traveller. Dr. Schomberg, Sii
James, and Bulstrode Whitelock, Robert, the first Lord Clive, with archbishops
bishops, &c., too numerous to mention. The education here is strictly classical
and mathematical ; and conducted by four masters.
The school of St. Saviour deserves respectful mention, were it only for the ad-
mirable practical rules drawn up by its founders. According to one of these, the
Master is to be a man of a wise, sociable, and loving disposition, not hasty or
furious, nor of any ill example ; he shall be wise and of good experience, to dis
cern the nature of every several child ; to work upon the disposition for the
greatest advantage, benefit, and comfort of the child; to learn with the love of
his book : unfortunately, it was necessary then as now to add, '' if such a one
may be got." The sports of the scholars, by the same rules, were directed to be
shooting with the long-bow, chess, running, wrestling, and leaping. Scholars pay,
according to Carlisle,* 1/. entrance-money, and 21. per annum ; the present ex-
pense, we are informed by authority, is about the same. This agrees but ill
with one part of the intentions of the founders in 1526, that the school should be
for children, as well of the poor as of the rich. The founders of St. Olave's, in
1570, seem to have had these words in view when they formed their establish-
ment for ''^children and younglings as well of rich as the poor," being inhabitants
of the parish. Elizabeth consented, it seems, to become the patron, and it was,
consequently, called her school ; but her name and a legal status seem to have
been all she gave to it. An excellent general education was provided, which
was to be so truly free that not even books were to be paid for, and the masters
were not to receive any fee or reward, directly or indirectly, on any pretence
whatever. The age of admittance is six or seven, and the boys remain generally
till fourteen, when those of humbler condition are apprenticed; others, who are
studying for the learned professions, may remain an almost unlimited time. Two
exhibitions of 80/. each at the Universities are connected with the school. St.
Olave's is now one of the most valuable of metropolitan schools. The funds have
been so greatly increased in progress of time, that they amount at present to
about 3000/. a-year. With the enlargement of the means the ends have been
pursued, of late years at least, in a correspondingly liberal spirit. The school
is exclusively for the parish, or rather the two parishes, into which the old St.
Olave's has been divided, and is only the more efficient from that very exclu-
siveness : since the number of children taught (limited only by the capacity of
the buildings) is so large, nearly six hundred, that undue preferences, whether of
persons or of classes, become alike unnecessary and impracticable to any im-
portant extent : the parish therefore is and must be done justice to. The esta-
blishment is divided into two schools — the classical, forming, with the head
master's house, the chief portions of the exceedingly elegant and appropriate
* EndoAved Grammar Schools.
EDUCATION IN LONDON. 13
rchitectural pile shown in our engraving, and the English, or branch, situated
1 ^t a little distance in the neighbourhood. The tuition in the two schools merely
I ifFers in this, that whilst all the ordinary branches of English education, with
[he classics, are taught in the one, in the other the classics are omitted. This
ifFerence points to the practical difference that exists between the classes of
ociety to which the children of the schools respectively belong, the classical
chool receiving generally those of the middle, the English those of the poorer
nhabitants of the parish. The number of boys in the first is now about 320,
ti the second about 250 ; taught, in each case, by three masters.
The last, best known, and historically the most important, of all the old
chools of London remains yet to be noticed. Who has not heard of the West-
ninster boys, of their plays and disputations, of their illustrious roll of great
nen who have been educated within the Old Abbey precincts, and of the
\lasters who have made the world ring again with the fame of their learning,
dmost as much as they have made the school walls reverberate with the sounds
)f the lash and the cries of the lashed ? Personify all the awful visions that ever
>hook the nerves of the youthful dreamers of punishment yet to be received for
lours of unlicensed absence, or tasks too late taken in hand, and whose but Dr.
Busby's terrible shadow rises to the view ? It is said that much of the tradi-
tional character of this exemplar of pedagogues is exaggerated ; we hardly think
[t. When the great quarrel took place between Dr. Busby and his second
master, Bagshawe, which ended in the latter's dismissal, the severity of the
former's discipline was one of the chief points urged by Bagshawe against him.
iHe has '' often complained to me," observes the latter, " and seems to take it ill,
that 1 did not use the rod enough." In the Life of some Schoolmaster in
j^ Nicholl's Literary Anecdotes,' it is observed that he would chastise pretty
|severely ; but it is still pointed out to his credit that he never did what it is
stated was a common habit with Busby — send boys home with a piece of buckram
iappended to a particular part of their apparel, as a necessary temporary substi-
itute for the part that had been flogged away by the master's zeal for his young
friend's intellectual welfare. But to do the Doctor justice, we have no doubt
whipping Avith him was a piece of honest enthusiasm, and not by any means a
mere ebullition of impatience or ill temper. Pointing to a scholar, he said one
day, '' I see great talents in that sulky boy, and I shall endeavour to bring them
out." Dr. South was the result of the discipline that followed. How could
the physician help having faith thenceforward in his medicine ? Some boys, to
be sure, could not perhaps pass through the ordeal, and these he frankly
acknowledged had no business at Westminster. He said his rod was his sieve,
according to Dr. Johnson, and whoever could not pass through that was no boy
for him. Busby, it appears, had his '' white boys," or favourites. Witty in
himself, it is creditable to him that he is said to have liked wit in others, even
though they were his own scholars, and the joke was at his own expense. It
must have been a terrible piece of business though for a boy to have committed
himself to a bad joke in such experiments. The only trustworthy anecdote of
Busby that has been received in reference to the wit of which we spoke, seems to
be this. Sitting once in company between Mrs. South and Mrs. Sherlock, the
conversation turned on wives , Dr. Busby said that he '' believed wives in general
14 LONDON.
were good, though, to be sure, there might be a bad one here and a bad one
there.'' For fifty-five years did Dr. Busby rule the destinies of the school; and
during that time so many able scholars passed through his " sieve," that he was
able at one time to boast that sixteen out of the whole Bench of Bishops had
been educated by him. The "rod" must have been in glorious occupation after
these recollections. Of the Masters prior to Busby, the most worthy of notice is
Camden, who was made Under-Master in 157], and whilst in that position com-
posed his great work, the ' Britannia.' In 1592 he received the appointment of
Head-Master. Ben Jonson was one of his scholars. As to the Masters since
Dr. Busby, the first was the brother of the eminent Physician, of whom we have
had occasion, in the ' College of Physicians,'* to relate an interesting anecdote
referring to his confinement in the Tower : the following verses were published
in consequence of this appointment : —
Ye sons of Westminster, who still retain
Your ancient dread of Busby's awful reign,
Forget at length your fears — your panic end ;
The monarch of your place is now a Freind.
This Dr. Freind caused much speculation in the school on the occasion of his
brother's arrest, by giving for a theme, Frater ne desere Fratrem. To give any
adequate idea of the number of the scholars who, by their subsequent career, have
shed a glory over the school that educated them, is all but hopeless. Embar-
rassed apparently by too much wealth, the historian of the school does not attempt
to mention any but those who have been distinguished by their election to the
Universities. Among these we find Dryden, in 1650, who signalised himself at
the school by translating the Third Satire of ' Perseus,' for a Thursday night's
exercise, as he has informed us in a prefatory advertisement to the published
Satire. Next comes Locke, who was elected to Oxford in 1652. Then a
batch of poets. Smith, Prior, Rowe, and Dryden's rival, Elkanah Settle. Smith's
election was marked by a very unusual compliment. His performances as a
candidate were so remarkable, that a contest ensued between the electors of the
two Universities as to which should have him ; those of Cambridge had that
year the preference, and they elected him ; but the Oxford people, no less deter-
mined, did what they could ; they offered the young scholar a studentship in one
of the colleges, and he accepted it. Bishop Newton follows, and then two more
poets, the friends Churchill and Lloyd. The last was for a short time an usher
in the school. As to Churchill, when he applied for matriculation at Oxford,
on leaving the school, he was, according to some, rejected on account of his de-
ficiency, whilst others relate the matter in a very different manner, saying that
he was so hurt at the trifling questions put to him by the Examiner, that he
answered with a contempt which was mistaken for ignorance. He was subse-
quently admitted at Cambridge. Warren Hastings, and a host of more recent
men, continue the list of distinguished Westminster scholars. There are some
curious points in the management of this school. The mode of election of boys
upon the foundation is one of these. We must premise that the present school
forms a constituent part of the establishment of the Cathedral, and dates there-
fore from the final settlement of the latter in 1 560, when it was determined, as
_ , ' , * See the College of Physicians, No. XXVII. p. 28. ^ ^ '■
EDUCATION IN LONDON. :. 15
?gards the school, that there should be two Masters, and forty King's or
ueen's scholars. These are distinguished by a peculiar garb, an academical-
oldng cap and gown ; and enjoy peculiar and highly estimated advantages,
iwing to the high patronage under which such a school necessarily existed, ad-
ission into it has always been greatly desired by parents of the highest rank
T their children. Hence the necessity for a less restricted admission.
Town boys" are therefore received as well as Queen's scholars, and from the
rst the second are elected. No one who has once witnessed the mode of election
ill ever forget it. At the commencement of Lent, a certain number of boys,
enerally from twenty to thirty, announce themselves to the Master as candidates
>r college. An arduous training is passed through by each boy before the day
■ contest arrives, under the care of one who has already passed the ordeal, and
most interesting feature of the business is the zeal of these assistants for their
men," as they call them. Morning, noon, and eve they are constantly by their
do, teaching them all the tactics of the intellectual carte and tierce for which they
re preparing. The great event commences at last. The candidates are arranged
cording to their forms in the school, and their places in the forms. The
helps" are at hand to give all possible assistance. A lesson, some Greek epi-
rams, perhaps, is set, and the two lowest boys, figuratively speaking, enter
e arena. The lowest of these is the challenger, and now calls upon his adver-
iry to translate one of the epigrams, to parse any particular number of words in
;, and to answer any grammatical questions connected with the subject. Demand
fter demand is made and correctly replied to. Baffled, but still determined, the
hallenger pursues, and at last some unlucky mistake is made ; the headmaster,
ho sits as judge, triumphantly appealed to, — *' It was a mistake" is the decision ;
ke challenger and the challenged change places on the form, and then the latter,
ith a fierce eagerness, repeats the process by putting his questions. This con-
inues till one of them is exhausted, feels he is beaten, and resigns the contest,
.^he conqueror, flushed with victory, now turns to the boy above him, and sup-
osing him to be one of those heroes who occasionally '^ flash amazement" on all
round, will pass step by step upwards, taking ten, fifteen, aye, twenty places in
uccession, before he too is stopped and quails under a greater spirit. The
esult is, that from seven to ten of the boys are elected into the college, accord-
ing to their precedence on the list of the most successful competitors, to take the
i»laces of those sent to the Universities. There are four studentships at Christ
vhurch, Oxford, and three or four scholarships at Trinity, Cambridge : election
a the former involves the important privilege of a living on quitting the Uni-
ersity, to all who choose to accept it. The selection of Queen's scholars to fill
he University vacancies is made yearly, after an examination by the heads of the
wo Colleges. In looking at the character of the foregoing examination, we are so
trongly reminded of the meetings on the bank boarded about at St. Bartholomew's
hat the question naturally occurs, whether the one custom is not a remnant of the
ther ? and on referring to Stow's notice to sec what schools shared in those
ncient disputations, we find the boys of '' St. Peter's, Westminster," expressly
lentioned with those of St. Paul's, the Mercers' (or St. Thomas-of- Aeon's),
nd St. Anthony's. The plays of Terence, annually performed in the large
.ormitory erected in the time of Atterbury's deanship, from a design by
16
LONDON.
the Earl of Burlington, are grand events in the histories of Westminster
boys, and of their parents, who are regularly invited; — it might also be added, ol
the world also, if we are to judge by the long accounts which usually appear in
the newspapers on such occasions : a circumstance that makes it the less necessary
for us to dwell upon the performances here. One or two matters connected with
them are, however, worth mentioning. The early scenery of the school, which was
the gift of William Markham, Archbishop of York, ^as prepared under the
direction of no less an authority than David Garrick. Another set of scenery
was presented by Dr. Vincent. During performance, the pit is set apart for
''old Westminsters/' who, as may be anticipated, contribute liberally to the
'' captain's cap,'* which is handed round at the end of the play. As much as
400Z. have been collected on some occasions, from which the expenses, generally
heavy, having been deducted, the remainder is divided among the senior Queen's
scholars, who have that evening fretted their hour upon the stage. This school,
though partially supported from the cathedral revenues, is anything but a free-
school. Both Town boys and Queen's scholars pay for their education, and thati
pretty handsomely. There is an entrance fee of ten guineas, and the annual
payments after are for the Queen's scholars seventeen guineas, the Town boys
twenty- three. Many of the Town boys, and of course the whole of thei
Queen's scholars, are boarders ; the former pay fifty-three guineas per annum, the
latter twenty-four. The Queen's scholars sleep in the dormitory before men-:
tioned, and dine in the fine old hall, formerly the Abbot's refectory ; and there, in
less degenerate times, they also breakfasted, on bread and cheese and beer, at six
o'clock in the morning. The prosperity of the school has somewhat declined ol
late years. When Carlisle wrote, in 1818, he spoke of the number of boys as
about three hundred ; now one hundred is about the average. A magnificent
increase, however, we understand, is about to be made to the power and influence
of the school, in connexion with the University endowments for its scholars, through
the liberality of its late master. Dr. Carey, the present bishop of St. Asaph, who
has left a large sum in his will for that purpose — it is said twenty-five thousand
pounds. This must do much to bring back to Westminster School all its former
prosperity. The number of assistant masters varies with that of the scholars;
there are two now, making, with the head master and the second master, four in
all. The education here, we need hardly mention, is essentially classical.
[Westminster School.]
[British and Foreign School, Borough Road.]
CXXVIL— EDUCATION IN LONDON.
No. II. — Modern.
What is Education ? is a question we may not unfitly pause a moment to ask, in
passing from the scholastic establishments — originated in an earlier — to those of
the present time ; for never before did the spirit of improvement, fast spreading
on all sides, promise to work more radical changes of principle, as well as of detail,
in all our educational arrangements, because never before did the necessity of
improvement appear to be so vitally connected with all the best interests of
society. What is Education ? then, we ask, and for answer step into one of the
lowest class of schools, such as are to be found in all parts of the metropolis, from
Westminster to Bethnal Green, the Dame Schools; and we see there that edu-
cation means the keeping out of the streets the children of those who are not
able, or who are unwilling, to take care of them at home, and that the educator
is a person who, being utterly unfit for anything in the world else of any import-
ance, naturally resorts to this. It is true that at such intervals of time as the
mistress can spare from her needle-work, her washing-tub, or her culinary opera-
tions—perhaps even during these avocations — she teaches reading and spelling;
but her labours are more meritorious than successful : " I have not," says the
Inspector of the British and Foreign Metropolitan Schools, " met with any of
VOL. VI. c
;
18 LONDON.
these children who could read."* Religious instruction, we apprehend, fares no
better in their hands than secular. One worthy mistress of a provincial dame-
school being asked the number of her scholars, replied, *'' It was unlucky to
count them. It would be a flat flying in the face of Providence. No, no, you
shan't catch me counting : see what a pretty mess David made of it when he
counted the children of Israel."
Ascending a step in the educational scale, let us seek in the humbler order of
day-schools for a similarly practical answer to the query. What is Education?
Not cleanliness, it should seem, nor health, nor enjoyment, at all events. Here
is a picture of an English day-school in the nineteenth century : — '' In a garret,
up three pair of dark broken stairs, was a common day-school, with forty
children, in the compass of ten feet by nine. On a perch forming a triangle
with the corner of the room, sat a cock and two hens ; under a stump bed, im-
mediately beneath, was a dog-kennel in the occupation of three black terriers,
whose barking, added to the voices of the children and the cackling of the fowls
on the approach of a stranger, were almost deafening; there was only one small
window, at which sat the master, obstructing three-fourths of the light it was
capable of admitting." This, which occurred in Liverpool, was, no doubt, an
extreme case ; but when we know from the partial examinations that have been
made in London, that the dame and day schools (of the class referred to) are
generally confined and badly ventilated, it becomes tolerably evident that par-
ticular cases must abound in the poorer districts, similar in kind, however they
may differ in degree from that we have mentioned. The tuition in such schools
includes reading, writing, arithmetic, and geography, but the results are, no
doubt, what they have been described, " very middling." Considering indeed the
character of the masters, who have in most cases filled some other profession, and
not succeeding, have taken up that of schoolmaster, we need not be surprised
that some odd mistakes will occur. One master, ambitious to distinguish him-
self above the ordinary teachers of geography, was found in possession of a pair
of globes, and being asked if he used both, or only one, replied, ''Both: how
could I teach geography with one ?'' It appeared he thought they represented
the two different halves of the world, and when the relator of the story explained
the error, turned him out of the room. Negative merits sometimes deserve
record ; that the teachers in such schools do not attempt to teach anything beyond
the commonest rudiments of knowledge, is a decided merit, for which we cannot
be too thankful. Morality, for instance, with them is looked upon in a light
quite as original as that in which the dame before referred to seems to have
beheld religion. To the inquiry, Do you teach morals? One master replied,
'' That question does not belong to my school, it belongs more to girls' schools."
Another answered to the same question, pointing to his ragged flock, " Morals!
how am I to teach morals to the like of these ? " Who, after this, can help sympa-
thising in the views of such men, as expressed by one of their number : " I hope
the Government, if they interfere, will pass a law that nobody that is not high
larnt shall teach for the future; then we shall have some chance." ''Of 540
* Report from the Select Committee on Education of Poorer Classes in England and Wales, 1838. We may
liere observe, to prevent a multiplicity of references, that the illustrations in the above and subsequent pages are,
unless it is otherwise stated, drawn from this, the most trustworthy publication on the subject of late years.
EDUCATION IN LONDON. 19
jchoolm asters and schoolmistresses (in Westminster and Finsbury, says the
Report of the Committee of the Statistical Society on Popular Education in
London), who were asked whether they had any other occupation than their
schools, 260 (or 48-1 per cent.) answered that they kept a shop, or took in wash-
ing or needle-work, or had other laborious employment : the rest answered that
they had no other occupation than their schools. But although they might not
iiave any other ostensible occupation, it can hardly be supposed that they were in
1 condition to devote their whole energies to their scholastic duties. On the con-
trary, the mistresses of the common day-schools were sometimes young persons
unable to go to service from ill-health, or desirous of staying at home with a sick
or aged parent, and glad to add something to their means of maintenance : some,
again, were mothers of large families ; and, in all cases, even the most favourable,
ithe female teachers had their own household work to attend to. A very large por-
tion of the masters of common day-schools, and still more of middling day-schools,
were men in distressed circumstances, or who had, at some time or another, failed
in trade, and seemed to have taken up the profession of schoolmaster as a last
Iresource. The little estimation in which the proprietors, and more especially the
mistresses, of schools hold their profession is shown by the circumstance, that
whenever they had any other trade or calling, they entered that other trade by
preference at the census of 1841. Thus a woman who took in needle- work would
be almost certain to describe herself as ' dress-maker,' not as 'schoolmistress.'
When the whole of the census of 1841 is published, it will probably be found that
the figures under the head of ' Schoolmasters, &c.' will bear a very small propor-
tion to the real number. An inspection of the census schedules leads us to be-
lieve that the same kind of prejudice holds good for and against many other pro-
fessions also. Your Committee hardly eve?- entered, for any length of time, into
conversation with the proprietor of a common or middling day-school but he or
she began to talk of having been 'm better- circhmstances' and q{ ' unforeseen
difficulties' " We need not ask what is education in the better order of day-
schools, or in those old foundations which engaged our attention in the preceding
number, since the views of their supporters and directors are so well known ;
being, in short, the views generally held, or at least acted upon, by society at
large, that education means a certain amount of knowledge simply, which the
schools in question, no doubt, give.
The incidental notices contained in the foregoing passages will have given our
readers some slight notion of the general quality of the education hitherto afforded
for the children of the poor in the metropolis, as well as in all the other great
towns of England; the quantity demands a few words of direct notice. In 1837,
an inquiry was instituted by the Statistical Society of London into the state of the
parishes of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, St. Clement Danes, St. Mary-le- Strand,
St. Paul, Covent Garden, and the Savoy ; when the result showed that but one
in fourteen of the population received any education at all ; and that of those
who did nominally receive instruction, one-fourth were the attendants merely of
the dame and common day-schools. If we go from the western to the eastern
parts of the metropolis, we find matters, as we might expect, worse. About one
in twenty-one of the population seems to be there, the average number of those
who attend any sort of school. The Inspector of the British and Foreign Schools
c2
20 LONDON.
remarked to the Committee for Education, '*^I know a gentleman who recently
visited the parish of Bethnal Green on Sunday ; and he walked about the neigh-
bourhood, and counted in different groups about three hundred boys, who were
gambling on the Sabbath-day ; and on inquiring of many of these youths, he
ascertained that they could not read, and their appearance was very rough and
degraded." But really this is a trifle to speak of in connexion with the locality.
A committee of its inhabitants* state that, " after making allowance for such as
must at all times be prevented from attending school, there are at this moment
from 8000 to 10,000 children in Bethnal Green alone, not only without daily in-
struction, but for whom no means of daily instruction are provided." Spitalfields,
Shoreditch, Whitechapel, Wapping, Newington, Bermondsey, St. George-in-the
East, Christchurch (Surrey), — the same state of things characterizes them all.
Omitting from the returns for these parishes laid before the Committee the
number of children attending the dame and common day-schools, which are in-
trinsically worthless, the result is that one in twenty-seven of the population
alone was instructed : the nature and agencies of the instruction given belong
to that department of our subject to which we now address ourselves, the educa-
tional movements of recent years.
In looking at the stately building in the Borough Road, and meditating upon
the importance of the influences with which it is connected, one cannot but feel a
deep interest in tracing back to its origin, in the same locality, the powerful society
whose operations, radiating from this spot, extend over a large portion of Eng-
land, we might almost say, of the world. Nothing could be humbler than that
origin. A youth, the son of a soldier in the foot guards, residing here, moved by
deep compassion for the ignorance and helplessness of the poor children around,
obtains a room from his father to open a school^ exerts all his energies to get it
fitted up, and then throws wide the doors for general instruction. By his novel
mode of tuition, and by the earnestness which can hardly fail with any mode, the
school is speedily filled. The new teacher has ninety children under his care,
long before he has himself reached the years of manhood. Such was the com-
mencement of the career of Joseph Lancaster. Anxious to overcome the difficulty
attending the expense of the education of the poor, he, for some years, endea-
voured with great ardour to devise and perfect a system which should enable one
master to teach several hundred children; and though it would be difficult to
attribute any great excellence in the abstract to the monitorial system, which was
the result of his labours, there can be no doubt that comparatively it has done
great good. Inefficient as the education given by it may, and we think, must be,
where the monitors are not first thoroughly trained, and then used merely for very
subordinate objects, there seems no reason to doubt but that it was an improve-
ment on that which it superseded, whilst it at the same tiine brought a large
increase to the numbers of the instructed. So benevolent and enlightened a man
was not likely to remain long without supporters. The Duke of Bedford gave an
early and cordial assistance, and in 1805 royalty itself deigned to smile on the
labours of the schoolmaster : it was during Lancaster's interview with George
the Third that the wish before referred to was expressed. In this age of self-
seeking, it is gratifying to read of Lancaster's single-mindedness and devotion to
* Referred to in (he Report of the Committee on Education,
EDUCATION IN LONDON. 21
principle. The most flattering overtures were made to him in connexion with
Lhe proposition that he should join the established church ; all which, as a
iiissenter, he respectfully but firmly declined. About this very time his affairs
vere so embarrassed, through the rapid extension of his plans of teaching, that
n 1808 he placed them in the hands of trustees, and a voluntary society was
brmed to continue the good work he had begun. Hence the Society, which, in 1813,
iesignated itself the '' Institution for promoting the British [or Lancasterian] Sys-
:em for the Education of the labouring and manufacturing Classes of Society of
very religious persuasion ;" but now known simply as the '' British and Foreign
School Society." The institution in the Borough Road may be looked upon in
1 threefold aspect. It is, first, the Society's seat of government ; secondly, here
are held the model schools, one for each sex, in which the Society desires to have
at all times examples for imitation by the branch schools ; and in which accord-
lingly improved modes of tuition are from time to time introduced. The mode of
instruction is partly monitorial, partly simultaneous — that is, a large number are
taught at once by a teacher, where the subject admits of such an arrangement.
jFor this the children are disposed on ranges of seats, rising in succession one above
another, and narrowing and receding as they rise, in the angle of the room, like the
one side of a pyramid. The master's eye thus readily embraces the whole of the
gallery. Thirdly, there are Normal Seminaries here, for the instruction of future
masters and mistresses, who, whilst teaching in the model school classes, are students
themselves in the art of tuition, the most important branch of their studies. The
account of the latter, with the qualifications demanded before entrance, and the
discipline observed after, as described in the pamphlet issued by the Society last
year, is a most cheering document ; at length we seem to have arrived at a point
from whence a glimpse at least of the promised land is opened to us. Religious
principle without sectarian feeling, health, activity, and energy, moderate talents
and information, kindness, and great firmness of mind combined with good tem-
per— such are the qualifications expected in an applicant. Suppose him admitted,
he then, in addition to the study of teaching by teaching in the Model School,
enters upon a scheme of instruction, which, besides the ordinary branches of edu-
cation taught in our schools generally, aims to make him able also to teach
elocution, natural philosophy, natural history, botany, chemistry, drawing —
from the mechanical map upwards to the artistical landscape — the elements
of physics, and vocal music. Nor is this all. In the list of lectures, or conversa-
tional readings on the art of tuition, we find such subjects as the following set
down for study and discussion by the pupils : on the philosophy of the human
mind as applicable to education ; on the promotion of a love of truth, honesty,
benevolence, and other virtues among children; on the ventilation of school-
rooms and dwellings ; on the elements of political economy ; on machinery
and its results ; on cottage economy, and saving banks, with a host of other
matters no less practically valuable to those who are to become the teachers
of the poor. Although, as yet, much of this must be looked upon as prospective,
and as what ought to be done, and that thoroughly, rather than what is yet in
any case accomplished, still the scheme of instruction given in the same publi-
cation for the Model School shows that this array is by no means a mere show of
learning, which the pupils are seldom or never expected to acquire, and at no time
22 LONDON.
to teach. Some of the features of that scheme are peculiarly gratifying, when con-
trasted with the practical neglect of all such matters that generally characterises
our schools of every rank. We see that kindness to animals, speaking the truth,
love to brothers and sisters, obedience to parents, and a recognition of the good<
ness of God, or what we may call the first rudiments of morality and religion, keei
steady and regular company in the junior class with the rudiments of intellectual
learning, and so on upwards as the learners progress. It is only just to mention
that the Society's past labours in the normal-schools have not been altogether
unrewarded. Of the two thousand and more masters already sent forth by the
Society, many have, it appears, distinguished themselves by their patience, dili-
gence, and piety ; and thus given earnest of what might be accomplished, could
the grand evil attending their normal schools be got rid of, namely, the shortness
of the j)eriod that the pupils generally stay in them, only a few months on the
average. To make the funds of the Society large enough to admit of its bearing
the entire expense of the board and training of pupils, instead of leaving a part
to be defrayed by the latter as it is now compelled to do, seems the only sure
remedy; and this Government should do. It is evidently poverty rather than
will that induces many to leave before they have passed through the preliminary
stages of a sound educational apprenticeship, and who would be glad, no doubt,
if the Society could really make apprentices of them for a certain period. In that
case some method might probably be devised of rendering the latter part of the
term profitable to the Society, and so to partially liquidate the previous costs.
About the same time that Lancaster brought his views prominently before the
world, and thus, as we have seen, led the way to the establishment of one of our
two great Educational Societies, Dr. Andrew Bell was similarly engaged, and his
exertions ended in the formation of the other. Whilst superintendant of the
Male Asylum at Madras, his attention was directed to the Hindu mode of writ-
ing in sand, and other peculiarities of their tuition, with which he was so pleased,
that on his return to this country he strongly recommended them as suitable for
a system of general education. After a sharp controversy on the merits of the
plans respectively proposed by the two educational reformers, and in which the
supporters of education gradually became divided into two distinct parties, hold-
ing different view^s as to the mode and the extent to which religious instruction
should be mixed with secular, the British and Foreign Society became the
representative of that which desired to make the Bible the basis of religious
instruction, but without doctrinal comments, and the National of that which
advocated the inculcation of the tenets of the Established Church. This is now
the grand distinctive difference between the two Societies. Without for a moment
questioning the purity of Dr. Bell's views, it is not uninstructive to mark his and
his rival's very different fortunes. Lancaster, after passing from difficulty to diffi-
culty, and being at one time insolvent, was solely indebted for the means of his ex-
istence in his latter days to a few old and faithful friends, who purchased an annuity
for him, and in that position he died in 1838 ; on the other hand. Dr. Bell may be
said to have stepped from honour to honour, with constantly increasing emoluments,
and when he died in 1832, it was as a very rich man even in a country of rich
men. Never, however, were rewards bestowed upon one who knew better how
to exhibit his gratitude to the cause for which they had been given : 120,000^.
EDUCATION IN LONDON.
23
was Dr. Bell's most magnificent bequest for the encouragement of literature and
, the advancement of education. ' The National Society for promoting the Educa-
tion of the Poor in the principles of the Established Church throughout England
I and Wales ' was established in 1811, and from that period has, like its rival,
\ exercised a beneficial effect within the sphere of its operations ; but in both cases
it is the impulse given within the last three or four years, and which has been
( increasing in power up to the present moment, — it is this, and the prospects in
consequence rioio open, that form their most truly gratifying features. The head-
I quarters of the National Society are in the Old Sanctuary, Westminster. This
has also its Model or Central Schools, its Branch Schools all over the country, and
its schools for teaching masters, both adults and youths, the last on a scale of
imposing splendour at Stanley Grove, Chelsea, where the male pupils are
trained. Here eleven acres of ground have been purchased, and beautifully laid
out in lawn, shrubberies, kitchen garden, and pasture ; magnificent buildings
erected in the Italian style, in addition to that already standing upon the estate,
for the purposes of dormitories, halls, chapel, and practising school : and already
about fifty of the sixty students that are to form the complete number of the
establishment have been received, and are steadily passing through the educa-
tional processes marked out for them, under the direction of an establishment of
masters, comprising, or intended to comprise, a Principal, Vice-Principal, and two
Assistants.
[Chapel and Practising School, Stanley Grove, Chelsea.]
There is one view of the present educational movements peculiarly interesting,
and suggestive of something like what we call poetical justice. The poor, who
have suffered from ignorance and the culpable neglect of their better informed
and better circumstanced brethren so long, are now likely to be the first enjoyers
24 LONDON.
of a thoroughly genuine education. Unquestionably, there is no comparison be-
tween the essential value of such schemes of instruction, carried on in the spirit
in which they are proposed, as that we have already had occasion to mention in
connexion with the Society in the Borough Road, and the schemes of any of the
older, more famous, and more wealthy educational foundations. These last may,
and doj make excellent scholars ; the others will aim at making excellent men, when
at least equally favourable opportunities are afforded for their development. This
view is still more forcibly impressed upon us in reading the letter of the Principal
at Stanley Grove (the Reverend Derwent Coleridge), in which the objects and
arrangements of that establishment are described : a letter, admirable alike in the
lofty views it inculcates, the practical knowledge that gives earnest of their realiza-
tion, the devotional but unsectarian spirit, and the thorough kindliness of feeling
towards the objects of all the Society's operations, the poor, which knows how to
raise instead of to depress those whom it assists, and while it assists; which, like
Mercy,
*' is twice bless'd ;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes."
Let the reader give his best attention to the following eloquent passage, and
then say whether it is not, indeed, a matter of congratulation to see, that — what-
ever the difficulties that have yet to be surmounted before an education can be
obtained, at once excellent and universal — those who are to be among the guides
have a clear perception of the right path, have the right spirit for pressing on in
it, despite all obstacles. — '' The truth is, that the education given in our schools
(I speak of those open to the poor for cheap or gratuitous instruction, but the
remark might be extended much more widely) is too often little more than no-
minal ; imparting, it may be, a little knowledge, sometimes hardly this, — but
leaving the mental powers wholly undeveloped, and the heart even less aff*ected
than the mind. Of course there are exceptions and limitations to this statement.
It does not apply to every school, and is less true of some districts than of others;
but the fact^ as a whole, stands upon what may be called statistical evidence : is
this owing to an accidental or to an inherent defect ? Are the means employed
inadequate merely ; or essentially unfit ? If the former, we may trust to time and
gradual improvement. We may proceed, if possible, more carefully, but in the
old way. If the latter, a diff'erent course must be pursued — we must do some-
thing else. 1 venture to take the latter position. To what end do we seek to
educate the poor man's child? Is it not to give him just views of his moral and
religious obligations — his true interests for time and eternity, while, at the same
time, we prepare him for the successful discharge of his civil duties — duties
for which, however humble, there is surely some appropriate instruction ?
Is it not to cultivate good habits in a ground of self-respect ? habits of regular
industry and self-control; of kindness and forbearance; of personal and domestic
cleanliness ; of decency and order ? Is it not to awaken in him the faculties of
attention and memory, of reflection and judgment? — not merely to instil know-
ledge, or supply the materials of thought, but to elicit and to exercise the powers
of thinking ? Is it not to train him in the use of language, the organ of reason,
and the symbol of his humanity ? And while we thus place the child in a condi-
tion to look onward and upward, — while we teach him his relationship to the
^ EDUCATION IN LONDON. 25
ej;rnal and the heavenly, and encourage him to live by this faith, do we not also
h'pe to place him on a vantage ground with respect to his earthly calling ?— to
g/e to labour the interest of intelligence and the elevation of duty, and disarm
t\dse temptations by which the poor man's leisure is so fearfully beset, and to
vliich mental vacuity offers no resistance?" It were presumption to add one
^|)rd of comment on such a passage. Of course in hands like these the intellec-
tlal powers and acquirements of our future masters are not likely to be neglected •
tjerefore we shall not dwell upon that portion of the studies at Stanley Grove.
Jit, in other respects, there are some points which will not, we think, be without
iterest to the readers of our paper. These may, perhaps, be best shown by
i|.lowing the proceedings of a single day : — At half-past five the students rise, in
dder to commence operations at six ; when, dividing according to a regular and
gstematic plan well known to all, they go, some to the household work, such as
(ibaning the shoes and knives^ some to the pumps required for different purposes,
sljme to feed the animals, or to fulfil the necessary duties of the farm. Part of
lis may sound humiliating ; the spirit in which it is required prevents its being
! in reality. Whatever is useful cannot be essentially mean. The *' dignity of
Ibour," sometimes talked of, will here, it is to be expected, become something more
■> an an enthusiast's dream. It now wants but a quarter to seven, the time for
i|e commencement of the morning religious studies, which are followed by prayers
id a short lecture. At eight those whose business it is to prepare breakfast,
( nsisting of bread and butter and milk and water, leave the main body for that
irpose, and, in ten minutes after, all are seated at their simple and frugal
past. The value of time is here too carefully inculcated to allow of its practical
aste by long sittings at meals; twenty minutes is allotted for breakfast,
hich has scarcely elapsed before the hum of industry is again heard from the
rm, the gardens, the lawns, the shrubberies, where an hour and a half are
)ent in cheerful and health-giving labour. Before this can weary, the bell
ings — it is ten o'clock — tools and implements are laid aside, hands washed,
le strong out-door shoes changed for the more comfortable ones of the house,
le agriculturist is forgotten in the student. One morning in each week,
le chief of the subjects that engage attention is the very interesting one of
lotany, which is taught not merely as a science, or as adding to the intellectual
lores or the enjoyments of the pupil, but with a view to the advantage of
jiose whose friend as well as teacher it is hoped he will become. *' Looking
)rward," observes the Principal, " to the future position of our students, almost
very country schoolmaster might be, with much advantage both to himself and
) his neighbourhood, a gardener and a florist. The encouragement lately afforded
) cottage-gardening has been already attended with the most pleasing results,
'he parochial schoolmaster who shall be able to assist, by example and precept,
1 fostering a taste so favourable to the domestic happiness, and, in fact, to the
omestic virtues, of a rustic population — a taste by which an air of comfort is
3mmunicated to the rudest dwelling, and a certain grace thrown over the simplest
)rms of humble life, will, it is trusted, in this as in so many other ways, be
lade an instrument of good, and an efficient assistant to the parochial clergy-
lan." At half-past twelve the morning studies terminate, and from thence till
inner at one, and subsequently for half an hour after dinner, the students are
26 LONDON.
released from the wholesome restrictions as to the use of their time, which a Avis
system imposes, for a no less wholesome freedom : recreation — voluntary stud
— converse — refresh the mind, and exhilarate the spirits — the bow is unbent fo
the moment, but it is to acquire new elasticity and vigour. The dinner is plain
but good and substantial. The afternoon studies commence at two, to last fo
two hours, and to be followed once more by garden or field labour. A portioi
of this time, twice in each week, is devoted to the more direct developmen
of that strength and activity which the varied character of the labours ii
question is calculated to give — gymnastics being then taught. Tea, the same a
breakfast, is taken at ten minutes after six, followed by practices in singing fo
half an hour, evening studies one hour, prayers and lecture three-quarters of ai
hour, when the remainder of the evening, or from a quarter to nine to half-pas
nine, is devoted to the study of the subject that will engage attention on the fol
lowing morning. The books are then put by, the readers retire to bed, and ai
ten the lights of the corridor, which are so arranged as to illumine the separate
rooms of the students through small glass panes, are extinguished by one of th
older youths, and j^rofound darkness and silence and peace reign throughoui
the place. How many of us can flatter ourselves, and how often, that we have
spent a better day ? It will be only necessary to add to the foregoing particulars
that the entire expense of the board, clothing, and training to the students them-
selves is twenty-five pounds yearly ; the cost to the college is of course verj
much larger : the annual expense of the establishment beyond the receipts is
estimated at 2000/. without any reference to its original cost, amounting, we
believe, to between 30,C00Z. and 40,000Z. The female training-school, con
ducted on the same principles, is situated at Whitelands, in the neigh
bourhood. We have occupied a large portion of our space, limited as that is,
with the account of the normal-schools of the two Societies, because we believe
the progress of education entirely depends upon the progress and efificient manage
ment of such institutions. Show us your masters, and there will be no difficult}/
in telling what is the character of your education ; which is but saying in other
words there will be no difficulty in understanding the physical and intellectualj
and moral and religious state of the people. The future forest is not more surely
enclosed in the handful of acorns scattered about by the husbandman, than is the
education of the people in its normal-schools. It is also important to observe
that the two societies have already an immense amount of materials ready to
work upon, and needing but the efificient master's hand, to be moulded to good
purpose. When the National Society made the last examination (three or four
years ago), into the state and number of its Metropolitan Schools, there were
25 infant-schools, with 3768 scholars; and 153 ordinary daily schools, with
13,039 boys, and 8475 girls. These numbers must be now considerably in-
creased, as the numerous churches of late erected in the metropolis have all
National Schools attached to them, and other schools have also been erected;
some of these buildings, v>^e may observe by the way, as the one here shown, are
becoming architectural ornaments of London.
Of the metropolitan schools of the British and Foreign Society, we are able to
give an accurate account of their present numbers, from the Report just pub-
lished. There are, it appears, 117 schools, with 19,158 scholars of both sexes, who
EDUCATION IN LONDON.
n
[Camberwell National Schools.]
)ay each per week \d., 2d., 3d., or 4c/,, according to the respective arrangements of
he schools. The receipts and expenditure of this Society, it may be here noticed,
verc last year nearly 7000/. ; of the National, above 20,000/. ; and from the
)owerful exertions now making by the friends of both, a great increase may be
|,^xpected for the future. Of the two other important classes of schools for the
metropolitan poor — those for infants, and those connected with the different
3arishes — there are no separate and trustworthy accounts, that we are aware of,
Tom which we may judge either of their character or extent. Some of the pa-
•ochial schools have been amalgamated with the National, and have ceased there-
ore to have any distinctive marks. We may form a rough guess as to the
lumber of children attending the remainder fi'om the annual meetings in St.
Paul's, which are understood to vary at different times from 6000 to 8000. As
lo the infant-schools, it seems they are altogether superior to the dame and
lay-schools ; some of those in Westminster are spoken of in particular as being
veil conducted. And if any system of education could be well conducted with-
put carefully trained conductors, no doubt the infant-schools would deserve this
pommendation, since they were commenced on more than ordinarily excellent
land practical principles. The most important was that of surrounding the
bhildren, at a very early age, with circumstances calculated to call forth better
habits, feelings, and desires than were practicable in their own homes, with parents
Igenerally uninformed, and too often exhibiting in their domestic life the worst of
examples. " If Mr. Owen," observes the writer of a valuable article on Schools
in the Penny Cyclopaedia, "^^ was the first Englishman to establish an infant-school
jon a large scale, and for definite purposes, and certainly the school which he founded
!at New Lanark, in Scotland, at least ranks among the earliest — he was aided
lin forming the idea by the wife of the Rev. William Turner, of Newcastle-on-
iTyne, who in the year 1818, when in conversation with Mr. Owen, remarked, that,
in her attention to the education of girls, she had frequently wished some means
icould be adopted for getting poor children taken out of the hands of their
parents, at an earlier age, before they had formed bad habits at home, and among
the idle children around them. Much was said, on both sides, on the desirable-
28
LONDON.
ness of infant-schools, which Mr. Owen immediately established on his return to
Lanark. Much credit is also due to Lord Brougham^ for the interest which he
manifested, and the valuable aid which he gave, in the establishment of infant-
schools. Mr. Wilderspin has, however, laboured more than any other person,
and with more success, in the founding of these institutions, and also in perfecting
their discipline." They are accordingly now to be found in every part of the
country, and, of course, numerously in the metropolis ; which they, too, are
beginning to stud with a prettier class of erections than they did in their earlier
history. We append an engraving of one of them.
[Infant School, Hollo w&y.]
Descending to the class lowest alike in the educational and social scale, the
poetical justice we have before referred to receives a still more striking illustra-
tion. Bad as is the situation of the children attending the dame and lower day
schools, it may almost be called excellent, in comparison with that of our juvenile
pauper population. One of the best of authorities. Dr. Kay Shuttleworth, de-
scribes such children as '^ ignorant of all that is good, but trained and practised in
all evil ; unintellectual, debased, and demoralized, the work of instruction and re-
formation sometimes appeared almost hopeless." The writer of this passage has,
notwithstanding, himself shown, in the school at Norwood, not only that we may
hope, as regards the future, but that, in the mean time, there are most solid
grounds of self-congratulation for what has been achieved at present. Indeed it
seems that '' the rapid improvement of the children, under a system of religious and
moral teaching, and of industrial training; their general decency of deportment ;
the proofs they afford of the influence of sound principles ; and the apparent state
of comfort in which they live, the simple result of cleanliness, discipline, and regu*
EDUCATION IN LONDON. 29
ij.-ity, attracted observation, and are now beginning to excite a feeling of jealousy
cit of doors."— Most naturally, we acknowledge ; therefore let us hasten to
ijmove that jealousy by the right mode ; let us adopt the suggestion that
lis been made to divide the children of paupers from the workhouse they
j|e not paupers, but rather state wards — and throw the doors open to all the
v.uth of the neighbourhood. The Premier's liberal views on this subject, as
pressed a session or two ago, will no doubt be remembered by many. Work-
►use-schools of the superior character indicated are, it appears, increasing
3t, in one district at least, that one which Dr. Kay Shuttleworth has jurisdiction
< er as Assistant Poor Law Commissioner. The training-school, at Battersea,
ider this gentleman and his associate, Mr. Tufnell, is well known for its excel-
tice, and deserves especially honourable mention, as the first good example in
is country of what such establishments should be. To the cheering indication
ready given of the right spirit being at work on the subject of education, among
3vernors as well as governed, we may also add the fact of Dr. Kay Shuttle-
orth's appointment, by a former ministry, to the Secretaryship of the Com-
ittee of Council of Education : the body to whom is intrusted the disposal of
le funds annually voted by Parliament (it is difficult to speak without indig-
ition of their amount), 30,000Z. Such funds, it may be observed, while we are
pon the subject, are expended in aiding the erection of school-houses, connected?
*wcept in special cases, with one of the two great Societies, and in return for
hich a most valuable influence is obtained, that of public opinion, upon the
lans and practices of the schools, which are made fully known by Government
ispectors. The mere circumstance of the excessive unpleasantness felt by the
uthorities of an ill-conducted school on seeing a faithful account of it side-by-
de with one of an entirely different character must be attended with beneficial
3sults. A higher and better influence, however, will be that exercised upon the
linds of all honest and inquiring men, by enabling them to compare the value
f different modes and principles.
We cannot better dismiss this part of our subject than with a brief glance at
le schools Dr. Kay Shuttleworth proposes should be established for the poor.
Pour hundred children, of both sexes (as in Scotland), are to be taught together ;
[alf of them, between the ages of three and seven, forming an infant-school, the
emainder, between the ages of seven and thirteen, constituting a juvenile-school,
i^ach school is to be conducted by a master and mistress, the two in the infant-
chool receiving 60/. yearly, those in the juvenile -school 90/. yearly, in addition
10 board, candles, and firing in both cases. Including books and extras the total
'xpense, it is calculated, would not exceed 300/. per annum ; and this for the
ducation in a superior manner of the large number of children we have men-
lioned. Weekly payments of three-pence each in the infant-school, and four-
!)ence in the other, would defray the whole, if they could be obtained. Dr. Kay
>huttleworth apparently inclines to the idea that local rates should, if necessary,
)e raised to assist in their support.
We have left ourselves but little space to refer to those educational establish-
nents of London which belong exclusively to the middle and higher classes ; a
lubject important in itself, but in the present state of affairs subsidiary to that
vhich has engrossed the greater part of this paper. Perhaps the time may come
So LONDON.
when our Universities may stand apart from the other educational institution
of the country, merely as being the highest in the series for the development of al
the objects of education, the apex of the pyramid of which the people at larg(
shall form the base ; instead of being, as at present, highest only in the intellectua
instruction they afford, connected with no general system, and existing only in tb
main, for the benefit of those who can pay their unnecessarily heavy expenses
The University of London was created by charter of William IV., but ov/ing to?
defect in the latter a new one was granted by her present Majesty in 1837. I
consists of a body of fellows, including a Chancellor and Vice- Chancellor, wh(
compose a Senate. The King is the visitor, and to the crown is reserved th(
power of from time to time appointing any number of Fellows; but in case th(
number shall be at any time reduced below twenty-five^ exclusive of the Chan
cellor and Vice-Chancellor, the Members of the Senate may elect twelve or more
persons to be Fellows in order to complete the number of thirty-six Fellows
besides the Chancellor and Vice-Chancellor. The Chancellor is to be appointed
by the crown. The office of Vice-Chancellor is an annual one, and is filled bj
election by the Fellows from their own body.
In the Senate, six Fellows being a quorum, all questions are decided by the
majority of the members present ; the chairman has a second or casting vote
The Senate has the power of making regulations respecting the examination foi
degrees and the granting them, but such regulations require the approval of a
Secretary of State. An examination for degrees must be held once a-year al
least. The candidates are to be examined in as many branches of general know-
ledge as the Senate shall consider most fitting. The examiners are to be ap
pointed by the Senate, either from their own body or otherwise. The Senate
confers, after examination, the degrees of Bachelor of Arts, Master of Arts,
Bachelor of Laws, Doctor of Laws, Bachelor of Medicine, and Doctor of Medicine.
At the conclusion of every examination, the examiners are to declare the name
of every candidate whom they shall have deemed to be entitled to any of the
degrees, and the departments of knowledge in which his proficiency shall have
been evinced, and also his proficiency in relation to that of other candidates. The
candidate is to receive a certificate under the seal of the University, and signed
by the Chancellor, in which the particulars declared by the examiners arc to be
stated.
A candidate for degrees is entitled to examination on producing a certificate
that he has completed the course of instruction required by the University. For
degrees in Arts and Laws, the charter empowers University College, London,
and King's College, London, to issue such certificates; and it provides that they
be issued by such other institutions at any time established for the purposes of
education as the crown shall authorise to issue them. As to degrees in Medicine,
the Senate is required from time to time to report to one of the Secretaries of
State what appear to them to be the medical institutions and schools in the
United Kingdom, from Avhich either singly or jointly with other medical institu-
tions and schools in this country or in foreign parts it may be expedient to admit
candidates for medical degrees. On the approval of such report by the Secre-
tary of State, candidates for degrees are to be admitted to examination on pre-
senting a certificate from any such institution or school. Any institution or school
EDUCATION IN LONDON. 31
]jay from time to time be struck out of the report under which they obtain
iithority to issue certificates.
JThe Senate of the University, subject to the approbation of the Commissioners
I the Treasury, are from time to time to give directions as to the fees which
Jail be charged for the degrees to be conferred.
' Certificates to candidates for examination at this University are empowered to
' granted by a number of scholastic establishments, chiefly of a collegiate form,
id from various medical schools throughout the country. The two principal
etropolitan colleges are King's College and University College, the distinctive
laracteristics of which, like those of the two Educational Societies before de-
ribed, are of a religious nature ; King's College, imparting religious instruction
accordance with the views of the Established Church ; whilst the other, de-
jring to provide a neutral ground where all may receive secular instruction, with-
it offence to any one's peculiar views, omits theology altogether from its regular
^ademic courses. The same circumstance points to the peculiarities attending
le origin of both. Next to the object proposed by the founders of University
ollege when they promulgated their views in 1825, of providing a University
lucation for the metropolis, was that of affording a similar opportunity to those
ho were shut out by religious tests from Oxford and Cambridge. The first
:one of the building was laid in April, 1827, by the Duke of Sussex; and
|fter a long struggle, chiefly with the Universities just mentioned, for a charter
jranting the power of conferring honours, an arrangement was finall}'^ concluded
1 1836, by which that power was given to the University then constituted, and
he College received a charter, recognizing it as one of the schools entitled to
3nd up candidates for examination. The average number of students during
le last seven years has been for Arts and Laws, 145; in Medicine, 430. In
he junior schools attached, the number of boys varies from three to four hundred,
'he ordinary annual expenses of the College are about 3500/., exclusive of the
)ayments made from the students' fees to the professors and other masters,
.^he College has been already endowed to a considerable extent by various bene-
actors. King's College, in the Strand, was founded in 1828, under the patron-
Ige of the principal ecclesiastical dignitaries ; and differs in no essential respects,
Ipart from religious matters, from its rival. The number of its matriculated
jtudents, in the term preceding the Report of April in this year, in general
literature and sciences, was 106 ; engineering, arts, manufactures, and architecture,
j57; and in the medical department, 115. There were also 39 occasional students
In the various classes not medical, 74 in the medical, and 497 boys in the school
Connected with the College. It may be useful, as affording an idea of the ex-
penses of a metropolitan university education (exclusive, of course, of such per-
jional matters as board), to state that the fee on entering King's College, as a
regular, or matriculated student, is one guinea ; and that, for example, the fee
'payable for the regular course of studies in the department of general literature
md science is 21/., if the student be nominated by a proprietor; 26/. 5i'. if not so
lominated. Both this and University College have medical hospitals attached,
ilso museums, and libraries. The other colleges belonging to London are those
)f Homerton, Highbury, and Stepney. The hospitals and several medical
32
LONDON.
schools in London are also recognised by the University. In conclusion, we ma
be excused for observing that, as the education of the metropolis necessarily irl
volves, to a great degree, the subject of the education of the country, not slmpll
as a matter of example, but also from the circumstance that the main springs c
the movement now going on in the latter are all to be found in the former, wi
have endeavoured to treat the whole in a correspondingly general spirit- •
course which, while it has enabled us to notice at some length the most importan
educational establishments of London, has rendered it impossible for us to d
more than refer thus cursorily to others, of less weight, indeed, but still no
without interest. Such an establishment, for instance, is that of the City o
London School, under civic patronage, where, at an expense to the parents o
about eight guineas yearly, instruction is given in the rudiments of an ordinar
English education, with book-keeping, history and mathematics, the Latin
Greek, French and German languages.
[University CollegR, Gowor Street]
\ - ^ \
[Interior of Synagogue ut Great St. Helen's.]
CXXVIII.— THE OLD JEWRY.
HE Old Jewry is the most centrical of the various places in the metropolis
here the people from whom it derives its name have left traces of their pre-
snce, and therefore do we select it as the station where we are to say our say
Dout the London Jews.
There is nothing Jewish now about the Old Jewry except its name. A
hristian church — a ham and beef shop — the house which once was the Excise
ffice — the Old Jewry chambers, where the West India Association have their
ace of business — none of these are Jewish ; nor do the names or features of the
habitants betray a Jewish origin. The very historical associations of the place
-n scarcely be called Jewish ; we have to grope so far back and into such an
3scure period in order to find those that are. Here it was, at least according to
16 version of the story, that the mob, in the time of James I., fell upon and
urdered Dr. Lambe, not because he was a cheat and a charlatan, but because
J was believed to be a creature of the haughty Buckingham. At the corner
■ the Old Jewry where it abuts upon Cheapside, so runs tradition, was the
)use in which a haughtier and greater than Buckingham, Thomas-a-Becket,
VOL. VI. D
34 LONDON.
was born. We must go sounding back through six long centuries in order
reach the time when Jews had connexion with the Old Jewry — and then what ^\
do learn of it and its occupants is meagre enough.
The reason of this is that the London or English Jews of our day have r
connexion whatever with the English Jews of the olden time. The banishmer
of the Jews from England in the sixteenth of Edward I. was succeeded by a Ion
interval during which no settlements of any consequence were attempted by thj
people in this country. We say of consequence, for we have that confidence i
the mercantile enterprise — the daring and versatility of this extraordinary rac
where a trade was to be driven — that we believe at no time has England bee
without individuals belonging to it. And in this impression we are confirmed b
Chaucer. In the last stanza of his * Prioress's Tale ' we read : —
" Oh young Hugh of Lincoln slain nho
With cursed Jews, as it is notable,
For it n' is but a little while ago."
And though we do not hold this to be any proof of the truth of the lying stor)
revived again and again with slender variations, to the prejudice of the Jews, b
uninventive bigots and plunderers, from a time long anterior to Chaucer dow
to its last appearance at Damascus, we hold that it affords a strong presumptio
of the existence of a straggling remnant of Jews in England during the foui
teenth century. Still they must have been few, and must have shunned ol
servation, for the Jew does not re-appear in England as a public and prominer
character till after the middle of the seventeenth century. We have two entirel
distinct and independent sets of Jews in England, whom we can in nowise cor
nect by a continuous history. The history of the one race terminates in 129(
with their banishment by Edward I. : the history of the other commences wit
the visit of Rabbi Manasseh-Ben-Israel to England in 1655. There might b(
there were, Jews in England during the interim, but there was no " Jewerie," nj
publicly-organised congregation.
The name of Old Jewry is derived from the earlier race. The limits of ^' th
Jewerie " it is not easy to conjecture. The northern termination of the street a
least appears to have been in it. " On the south side of this street'' [Lothbury
says Maitland, '' westward, at the end of the Old Jewry, stood the first synagogu
of the Jews in England, which was defaced by the citizens of London, after the
had slain seven hundred Jews (five hundred according to another authority), am
spoiled the residue of their goods, in the year l^G'i (this ought to be 1264), th
forty-seventh of Henry III." From the church of St. Olave's, Jewry, at th
corner formed by Church Lane and the Old Jewry, to the church of St. Martin's
Ironmonger Lane (not rebuilt since the fire), at the corner formed by the saim
Church Lane and Ironmonger Lane, and thence northward to Cateaton Street
was all included in what had been "the Jewerie." Here, according to Mait
land, *^ was of old time one large building of stone, very ancient, made in th
place of Jews' houses ; but of what antiquity, or by whom the same was built, o
for what use, is uncertain ; more than that King Henry VI., in the sixteenth o
his reign, gave the office of being porter or keeper thereof to John Start, for th
term of his life, by the name of his ' Principal Palace in the Old Jewry.' " Th
THE OLD JKWRY. 35
];liurch of St. Lawrence, on the north side of Cateaton Street, and' rather to the
;ast of the termination of St. Lawrence Lane, stands upon ground which in its
ime was within '' the Jewerie." Hugh de Warkenthley was rector of this church
In 1295, and in the documents relating to it in his time that have been preserved
It is termed *' Ecclesia Sancti Laurentii m /wf/azVwo." Turnint'- eastward from
he church of St. Lawrence, and keeping still along the north side of Cateaton
street till we reach the south-west corner of Basinghall Street, we again find
races of " the Jewerie." Here, according to Maitland, '' was anciently an old
)uilding of stone, belonging some time to a certain Jew called Mansere, the son
)f Aaron, the son of Coke the Jew, in the seventh of Edward I.'' It appears
|.herefore that " the Jewerie '' extended along both sides of what is now called
IJateaton Street, from St. Lawrence Lane and the church of St. Lawrence on the
vest, to Basinghall Street and the Old Jewry on the east. Between the Old
Jewry and Ironmonger Lane it extended at least as far south as Church Lane.
VIore we have been unable to learn respecting its extent; but as there is reason
0 think that the Jews would fix upon a centrical site in the quarter of the city
i;hey occupied to build their synagogue upon, and as the synagogue is generally
idmitted to have stood at the north-west corner of the Old Jewry, in all proba-
bility *' the Jewerie " was considerably more extensive. The mention of the
!' old building of stone " belonging to the Jew Mansere in the seventh of
jEdward I. would seem to imply that some of the houses were of a superior cha-
-acter in an age when wooden structures predominated.
There are other traces of the Jews of the old time in old London, besides the
Did Jewry. Jewin Street, leading from the south end of Red-cross Street, near
5t. Giles, Cripplegate, to Aldersgate Street, is built on a patch of ground granted
3y Edward L to William de Monte Forte, Dean of St. Paul's, which is described
n the record as a place without Cripplegate and in the suburbs of London,
called Leyrestowe, *' which was the burying-place of the Jews of London," and
i^alued then at 40.y. per annum. In a still older record, of the reign of Henry II.,
t is described as " Gardinum vocat. Jewyn Garden." Maitland speaks of it as
laving been '' a large plat of ground, of old time called the Jews' garden ; as
(being the only place appointed them in England to bury their dead, till the year
JII77, the fourteenth of Henry II., that it was permitted them (after long suit to
i:he King and Parliament at Oxford) to have special places assigned them in
iDvery quarter where they dwelt. * '^ * This plat of ground remained to the said
(Jews till the time of their final banishment out of England, and was afterwards
turned into fair garden-plats and summer-houses for pleasure."
I There was another '^ Judaismus" in the reigns of Henry III. and Edward I.,
jjituated somewhere in the liberties of the Tower; Maitland conjectures, near the
place afterwards called, by a right English corruption of language, *' Hangman's
Gains," in consequence of a number of refugees from Hammes and Guisnes
settling there in the time of Queen Mary. This Jewerie, Maitland describes as
—*' A place within the liberties of the Tower, called the Jewry, because it was
inhabited by Jews ; where there happened, 22 Henry III., a robbery and a
murther to be committed by William Fitzbernard, and Richard his servant, who
:ame to the house of Joce a Jew, and there slew him and his wife Hanna.
The said William was taken at St. Saviour's, for a certain silver cup, and was
d2
36 LONDON.
hanged. Richard was called for and outlawed. One Miles le Espicer, who was
with them, was wounded, and fled to a church and died in it. No attachment
was made by the sheriffs, because it happened in the Jewry, and so belonged not
to the sheriffs but to the constable of the Tower." Still more curious is an
extract from the records of the Tower relating to this eastern "Jewerie" pre-
served byPrynne : — " That, anno 1279, the eighth of Edward I., upon the Arch-
bishop's request, the King issued a writ to the Mayor and Sheriffs of London,
to apprehend certain Apostates, qui recesserunt ah unitate Catholicce Fidel.
But they were in Judaismo, i. e. in the Jewry, and so out of the power and juris-
diction of the magistrates of London. Upon this the Archbishop wrote to the
Bishop of Bath and Wells, that was Chancellor, signifying that those enemies of
the Faith were yet m Balliva Majoris et Vice-comitatis Londinensis, sub custodia
et Potestate Constabularii Turi'is, ubi ingredi non possunt, ut dicitur, sine speciali
mandator These " Apostates " appear to have been secular priests who refused
to part with their wives ; for the Archbishop goes on to request that in the new
writ the word "^c??<f/e^m " might be omitted, seeing "they have now their wives
with them as formerly."
One is almost tempted to conjecture that these two '* Judaismi," the one
within the walls, if not within the jurisdiction, of the City of London, the other in
the liberties of the Tower, were two distinct colonies. There was a great immi-
gration of Jews into England under William the Conqueror ; so great that some
have rather rashly concluded that they were the first settlers of the Hebrew race
in this country. There are, however, traces of them at an earlier period. The
canons of Ecbright, Archbishop of York, promulgated in 750, contain an in-
junction that no one "shall Judaise or presume to eat with a Jew." Ingulphus,
in his ' History of Croyland Abbey,' mentions a charter granted by Whitglaff,
King of the Mercians, to that foundation in 833, confirming all gifts bestowed
upon it at any time by his predecessors or their nobles, " or by any other faithful
Christians, or by Jews." The laws attributed to Edward the Confessor declare
that the Jews stand under the immediate authority and jurisdiction of the
King : — '' JudcEi el omnia sua regis sunt'' What more natural than that the Jews
who flocked into England under the encouragement of the Conqueror should
settle within the jurisdiction of the constable of his Palatine Tower ? Or what
more natural than that the Jews settled in England before the Conquest, and
who are declared to be, with all their property, in the King's hand, should be
found immediately adjoining that quarter of the City which would appear to have
been the Court end under the Saxon monarchs ? Matthew of Paris asserts that
St. Alban's church, which stands nearly in the middle of a line drawn from " the
Jewerie" within the City, to the angle of the wall at Cripplegate, was the chapel
of King Offa, and adjoining to his palace. Mund mentions, in his edition of
Stow, that the great square tower remaining at the north corner of Love Lane in
the year 1682, was believed to be part of King Athelstan's palace. The name
of Addle Street is derived by the same antiquarian from Ad el, or Ethel — the
Saxon for noble. The original council chamber of the Alderman is known to
have stood somewhere in Aldermanbury, which had its name from it. Without
a certain, a positive belief in any one of these statements, their coincidence seems
to render it extremely probable that the royal residence was in that quarter,
THE OLD JEWRY. 37
hich may account for the King's men, the Jews, taking up their residence
3ar it.
These same Jews whose local habitation we have been endeavouring to trace,
ppear pretty frequently in the City annals from the time of the Conquest till
le time of their banishment by Edward I.
In 1189 we have a general massacre of the Jews in London. Richard I. was
•owned in the autumn of that year, and intimation was given to the Jews not to
resent themselves at the ceremony. Some motive or other, however, prompted
lany of them to disregard the injunction. Under the pretence of carrying gifts
) the King they endeavoured to procure admission into the Abbey church of
Westminster. They were repulsed by the royal attendants; a general fray
nsued, the mob taking part against the Jews. Some of the more bigoted of
le lower orders of the clergy added fuel to the llame by representing the
itrusion as an attempt on the part of the Jews to desecrate the church by their
resence. The angry multitude precipitated themselves towards London, killing
11 the Jews they met by the way, and burning and pillaging their houses. The
[ing, like all kings, was angry at a mob for taking the law into its own hands —
nd angry also at the pillage of a body of men from whom considerable sums
ould occasionally be exacted — but entertaining no real sympathy or compassion
}r the Jews, and affecting, moreover, the character of the bully of Christendom,
0 was easily pacified.
In 1241 the Jews of London were sentenced to pay twenty thousand marks to
he King, or to the alternative of perpetual imprisonment, because the Jews of
*^or\vich had circumcised a child born of Christian parents.
The year 1262 and the year 1264 are noted for massacres of the Jews in
jondon. Almost all those frequently recurring massacres appear to have had
heir origin in some private quarrel between a Jew and a Christian, in which the
)rejudices of the mob induced it to take part against the Jew, and when once
'lushed with actual violence, unable to stop the way given to its furious passions,
0 precipitate itself on the collective " Jewerie." In 1262 a quarrel broke out
')etween a Christian and a Jew, in the church of St. Mary Cole, which stood at
he corner formed by the Old Jewry and the Poultry. The Jew, having dan-
Ijerously wounded his adversary, endeavoured to escape, but was pursued by the
')opulace and killed in his own house. And the mob, as usual, not stopping
[here, fell upon his neighbours, killing and robbing them indiscriminately.
The outrage in 1264 arose out of an attempt on the part of a Jew to extort
rom a Christian more than the legal interest (2d. per week), for a sum of 201.
vhich the latter owed him. The rabble rose when this intelligence was circu-
ated, in all parts of the City, and attacked the ''Jewerie." It was on this
)ccasion that their first synagogue in London was destroyed.
In the next attempt to pillage the Jews they suffered in good company, and
jnade a stout and honourable defence. In the fiftieth year of Henry III.
lorilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, having obtained possession of the city of
jorloucester, deposed the magistrates, substituting in their places creatures of
lis own, and liberated a number of his adherents who had been imprisoned.
Many of those persons had been excommunicated by the Pope's legate then
resident in London. The legate, on his part, put the city under a kind of inter-
38 LONDON.
diet ; commanding that the bells should not be rung for divine service, orderino
that it should not be sung, but said ; and directing all the churches to be shutj
lest any of the excommunicated rebels should participate in its benefits. The
legate betook himself for personal security to the Tower of London, and thither
also fled the Jews, who, either because they had advanced moneys to the royalj
party, or because they had refused to advance them to the insurgents, appear to
have run equal danger from the victorious party with that prelate. The garrison
of the Tower — consisting, in great part, of the Jews — made a brave resistance,
and held out till the King, having received a large reinforcement of French and
Scotch troops, raised by his son Edward, marched to the capital and raised the
siege.
The Jews seem after this to have been left pretty much in peace till the close
of King Henry's reign : under his son Edward I. their troubles soon re-com-
menced. That prince appears to have troubled his memory or his gratitude no
more with the fact that the Jews had been mainly instrumental in holding out
the Tower of London for his father, than with the fact that Scotch auxiliaries had
enabled him to raise the siege. Or perhaps the Jews, presuming on the service
they had done the late King, took even greater liberties than kingly gratitude
could tolerate. Whatever were the reasons, we learn from the concurrent testi-
mony of Florian and Mathew of Westminster that, in 1278, the Jews throughout
England were seized and imprisoned in one day, on the charge of clipping and
diminishing the King's coin ; and that out of those seized in London alone, two
hundred and eighty of both sexes were executed. On the meeting of Parliament
at Westminster, in 1275, the affairs of the Jews then in England were taken into
consideration, and several laws passed to restrain their alleged excessive usury.
It was also enacted that they should wear a badge upon their upper garments
("ad unius palmse longitudinem ") in the shape of the two tables of Moses' law.
Next year the King, by proclamation, enjoined that Jewish women also should
wear this badge.
At last, in 1290, the event occurred which brings to a close this section of
Jewish history in England — their banishment from the kingdom. The most
condensed, and apparently the least inaccurate (we cannot use a stronger term),
account of this event we have met with is contained in the 'Parliamentary History
of England' published by the Tonsons, in 1762, and is as follows : —
*'An affair of consequence came before this Parliament (the third held in 1290,
which met in Northamptonshire), which was the entire banishment of the Jews
out of the kingdom. The nation had long desired it, but the Jews still found
means to divert the blow, by large presents to the King and his ministers.
They wanted to play the same game again now, but could not do it, the King
being unable to protect them any longer, and unwilling to risk the disobliging of
his Parliament on their account. Accordingly the Act of Banishment was passed,
whereby their immoveable goods were confiscated ; but they had leave to carry away
the rest with them. There seem to be two diflferent transactions in the Parliament,
relating to the Jews : one to restrain their usury, &c. and the otherto ordain their
banishment. Lord Coke, in his ' Institutes ' on the Statute de Jiidaismo^ asserts the
one, and the last is proved by the Act made on purpose for it. The number of
these banished Jews, according to Mathew of Westminster, was 16,160, and the
, THE OLD JEWRY. 30
arliamcnt were so well pleased to get rid of these extortioners that they readily
id willingly granted the King an aid of a fifteenth, and the clergy a tenth out
1 theirmoveables ; and joined (? the clergy) with the laity in granting a fifteenth
'all their temporalities, up to their full value, to make the Kino- some small
ncnds for the great loss he sustained by the Jews' exile.
This is (in brief) almost all that can be gathered respecting the London Jews
aring the period of their first residence in England, as a '' Judaismus " or
Jewerie " — a designation properly descriptive of the collective Jewish people
k any place, though by Englishmen generally understood to denote the quarter
Ijsigned them for residence. It does not appear whether they possessed a
nagogue in any other part of the kingdom than London. Till the vear 1177
le " Jews' Garden," now Jewin Street, appears to have been their only place
r burial in England : from which it might be inferred that London was their
antral and head residence. Possibly their only synagogue was in London : the
;\v families established in other towns constituting simple congregations. A
prious narrative of a law jilea in 1158, written by Richard de Anesty, one of the
arties, and published by Sir Francis Palgrave in the Appendix to his ' Rise and
rogress of the English Commonwealth,' throws an incidental light on the wealth
nd business of the Jews during this period. Richard had frequent transactions
ith them, with a view to raise ready money for his journeys after the ambu-
itory law courts of these days, and for presents to ''Ralph, the King's physician,
nd others about court." The Jews were, by their bonds of common faith and
ommon origin, one organised corporation; and almost the whole of the ready
loney of the kingdom appears to have been in their hands ; at least, Richard de
Anesty, that notable borrower, never borrowed from any other. The interest or
isance paid them varied, between 1060 and 1290, from 3r7. to 2o?. per pound per
^eek ; or from rather more than 60 to rather less than 50 per cent, per annum.
This was a high rate, but probably not higher than they were entitled to. They
lad no exclusive privileges to deal in loans : and Christians were not debarred
rom dealing in them by any doubts as to the morality of taking interest; for we
ind many of the Judges, and other salaried courtiers who picked up a little money,
accused of being as great "usurers" as the Jews. The truth is that there would
lave been little or no money in the kingdom had not the Jews introduced it, and
-he Jews naturally took as high a remuneration for the temporary use of it as
nen would give. The *' usury" of the Jews was good service to the kingdom.
Aifter they were banished, the English were obliged to deal with the Christians
)f Lombardy, Lucca, &c., on the same terms. The Jews grew enormously rich by
|:his traffic, and thus became an object of jealousy to the natives. They stood im-
jnediately under the King's protection, and a sense of honour made the sovereign
[protect his clients occasionally from the violence of the prejudiced people, though
i:his same sense of honour did not prevent him making the Jews pay exorbitantly
for this vacillating patronage. The people could not fail to perceive the mercenary
imotives which gave the Jews the strongest hold on royal protection ; and they
were thus encouraged to attach to the countenance lent them the idea of crimi-
nality, which properly only belonged to the reason why it was extended. The
popular dislike to Jews was but an exaggerated phasis of the vulgar hatred of
"Mounseers" of a later day. The statutes of confiscation and banishment of
40 LONDON. !
1290 were the legitimate predecessors of those levelled against the Hanseatic am
other foreign traders in later days.
The clergy, however, did assist to increase the odium in which the Jews weni
held. They had more cause to be jealous of them than at a later period. Th(
Jews were then a more accomplished and enlightened race than centuries of feuda
oppression had made them four or five hundred years later. In the travels ol
Benjamin of Tudela we read that ever}'^ association of Jews in the more importanl
cities of Europe had its college, or seminary, for training men learned in theii
law. On the other hand the laity, and even the priesthood, were then in point
of enlightenment as far inferior to their descendants four hundred years later
as the Jews were superior to theirs. In England the balance of learning and
accomplishments preponderated in favour of the Jews. There was a differencei
too, in the relative holds of the two religions upon the minds of their votaries.!
Both rest upon one common basis, — the Old Testament. The faith which spi-
ritualises the types and forms of that sacred volume was then comparatively new
in the island : many of the Northumbrians, and others of Norman race, had been
pagans only two or three centuries before. On the other hand, the earthly hopes
of those religionists who interpret the prophecies had not been tried by so many
ages of fruitless expectation as those of our day. The Jews were stronger in
faith then, and the Christians more wavering. The Jews were then a prose-
lytising race : now they no more seek to make converts than the Quakers. We
have seen that one of the persecutions of the London Jews originated in the
circumcision of a Christian child by the Jews of Norwich. Mr. Blunt, in his
' History of the Jews in England,' records some curious instances of the polemical
war waged in England between Jewish and Christian missionaries in the time of
William Rufus : —
" The conduct of Rufus towards the church, and his frequent disagreements
with the clergy, rendered him an object of dislike to the monkish writers, who
were the principal historians of his period; and they have not failed to accuse
him of impiety and open profaneness, and to record instances of his contempt for
Christianity. By them we are told that he obtained the advance of considerable
sums from the Jews, under the promise of obliging such of their body as had
embraced the Christian faith to revert to Judaism. And they state that on one
occasion in particular, a Jew, whose son had been converted to Christianity, paid
the King sixty marks, upon the agreement that he would induce the lad to
embrace the Jewish faith. The youth was summoned to the King's presence,
when both persuasion and threats were employed ; but he persisted in holding
steadfast to his new religion : and William, finding he could not bring about the
point, returned the father the half of his money, saying, ' That as he had not
fulfilled his engagement, he could not in justice retain the whole sum ; but that
at the same time it was only equitable he should keep a part for the trouble he
had taken in the affair.' The same historian* informs us, that on another occa-
sion the Jews were induced by King William to engage in an open controversy
with certain of his bishops and clergy upon the merits of their respective religions,
upon a promise that he would give impartial attention to the dispute, and if the
* Antonin, Chron. Pars II. lib. xvi. c. 5, says the king swore by St. Luke's face that he would turn Jew if
they overcame the Christians.
THE OLD JEWRY. 41
ews had the best of the argument, would himself embrace their faith : whcre-
ipon, to use the words of Hoveden, * The controversy Avas carried on with great
ear on the part of the bishops and clergy, and pious solicitude by those who
eared the Christian faith would be shaken ; and from this combat the Jews
brought nothing but confusion, although they would many times boast they were
ather overcome by force than by argument.' However this may have been, the
hurch, it seems, became alarmed at the progress the Jews were making amon<r
heir Christian brethren ; for in the next reign we find it mentioned, that monks
vere sent to several towns in which the Jews were established, expressly for the
)urpose of preaching down Judaism. Jaffred, abbot of Croyland, in the tenth
('ear of Henry I., sent some monks from his abbey to Cottenham and Cambridge
0 preach against the Jews ; and about the same time some ecclesiastics were
lent from other parts to Stamford, to oppose the progress of the Jews in that
|)lace ; where we are told by Peter of Blessans, ' They, preaching often to Stam-
fordians, exceedingly prospered in their ministry, and strengthened the Christian
aith against the Jewish depravity.' "
I The hatred nourished against the Jews was irrational and unchristian, but
he fault was not altogether on the side of the Christians. The Jews were
nen — no worse, it may be, but no better, than their neighbours. They felt
hemselves, as a body, a more civilised^ a more literary, race than the mass of
,he inhabitants of England under the Norman princes — they piqued themselves
ipqn peculiar skill and dexterity in business — they were buoyed up at times by
'oyal protection and countenance. It was human nature to grow insolent on the
itrength of such advantages ; and doubtless the Jews did at times draw down
ipon their own heads, by their own impertinence, the misfortunes they met with.
But, if the fault was in part on both sides, the folly was all on the side of the
English, who drove from their shores those who mainly contributed to set their
nfant industry in motion.
From the year 1290 to the year 1655 a long interval elapses during which,
:hough there were doubtless individual Jews to be found in England, there was
10 Judaismus — no organised body of Jews. It is probably for this reason that
;he Jew was turned to so little account in the dramatic literature of the
Ehzabethan age. At this moment we can only call to memory two Jewish
characters in the drama of that period— Shakspere's Shy lock and Marlowe's
Barnabas. In the Jew of Marlowe one is not surprised to find little individuality
of character. He is a terrible incarnation of passion, but wants all those traits
iivhich stamp the passionate being as akin to the men of every-day life. This
Inflight pass for being only characteristic of Marlowe's peculiar genius. But even
Shakspere's Jew, though it has traits of human individuality, has few traits of
\Tewish individuality. His Hebraisms — and he has some noble ones— are such as
my Christian might be supposed to have incorporated with his imagination, as
kellasa Jew. Shylock is every inch a man, as Othello is every inch a man ;
out Shylock betrays as little knowledge of the natural history of Jewish morale,
is Othello of the natural history of Moorish physique— ^nd for the same reason :
that Enghshmen were never brought into habitual contact either with Jews or
Moors. Both Shylock and Barnabas belong more to the legendary world than to
the real. They were not produced, as some have idly thought, to gratify an
42 LONDON.
audience prejudiced against Jews; but to strike with awe, from their terrific
passion, an audience which knew little about Jews, and cared less. In countries
where Jews have abounded and been objects of popular odium, the dramatists
who have pandered to prejudice, have uniformly made their Jews mean and
ludicrous as well as hateful. You may hate Barnabas and Shylock, but you
cannot despise them. Shakspere and Marlowe found their Jews in the legends
of other lands, not in real life, nor even in popular apprehension.
In 1655 the Jews again emerge into the public life of England. Cromwell's
statesmanlike spirit had recognised the advantages which the nation mi^ht
derive from inviting this intelligent and wealthy people to settle in it. He might
also have an eye to the advantages this affiliated body might afford him in pro-
curing early and authentic information from abroad, an object to which Cromwell
directed much attention. Whatever his reasons, he invited, or at least encouraged
overtures from, some Jews of Amsterdam for leave to settle in England. The
petition of the agent or envoy of these Jews — the distinguished Rabbi Manasseh-
Ben-Israel of Amsterdam — to Cromwell is a remarkable document : —
" These are the graces and favours which, in the name of my Hebrew nation,
I, Manasseh-Ben-Israel, do request of your Most Serene Highness, whom God
make prosperous and give happy success to in all your enterprises, as your
humble servant doth wish and desire.
'' 1. The first thing I desire of your Highness is, that our Hebrew nation may
be received and admitted into this puissant commonwealth, under the protection
and safeguard of your Highness, even as the natives themselves. And, for
greater security in time to come, I do supplicate your Highness to cause an oath
to be given (if you shall think it fit) to all the heads and generals of arms to
defend us upon all occasions. 2. That it will please your Highness to allow us
public synagogues, not only in England, but also in all other places under the
power of your Highness, and to observe in all things our religion as we ought.
3. That we may have a place or cemetery out of the town to bury our dead,
without being troubled by any. 4. That we may be allowed to traffic freely in
all sorts of merchandise, as others. 5. That (to the end those who shall come
may be for the utility of the people of this nation, and may live without bringing
prejudice to any, and without giving offence) your Most Serene Highness will
make choice of a person of quality, to inform himself of and receive the pass-
ports of those who come in ; who, upon their arrival, shall certify him thereof
and oblige themselves, by oath, to maintain fealty to your Highness in this land.
6. And (to the intent they may not be troublesome to the judges of the land,
touching the contests and differences that may arise betwixt those of our-nation)
that your Most Serene Highness will give license to the head of the synagogue
to take with him two almoners of his nation to accord and determine all the
differences and process, conformable to the Mosaic law ; with liberty, neverthe-
less, to appeal from their sentence to the civil judges; the sum wherein the
parties shall be condemned being first deposited. 7. That in case there have
been any laws against our Jewish nation, they may in the first place, and before
all things, be revoked ; to the end that, by this means, wc may remain with the
greater security under the safeguard and protection of your Most Serene High-
ness.
THE OLD JEWRY. 43
i "Which things your Most Serene Highness granting to us, we shall always
i3main most affectionately obliged to pray to God for the prosperity of your
lighness, and of your illustrious and sage council, and that it will please Him to
'ive happy success to all the undertakings of your Most Serene Hi"-hness.
Imeny
1 1 There are some passages in this document which would seem to imply that it
'ad, at least, been revised by a British lawyer. Whoever its framer, however,
jiere is a grave sagacity about it worthy of the representative of a portion of the
lOst ancient nation on earth concluding a treaty of protection with the head of a
jowerful state. It is interesting, too, to note the unchanged character of the
lews during the long period of their exile from England. Manasseh-Bcn-Israel
nd his friends do not appear to have possessed even a tradition of the former
jossessions of their tribe in England, yet the first arrangement they contemplate
; the organisation of a special jurisdiction under the immediate protection of the
hief magistrate as under the Norman princes, and " 2i place out of the town to
airy their dead," like '^ the Jews' garden" near Cripplegate.
Cromwell and the Jews having com.e to an understanding, the next step was to
ry whether the national prejudices would admit of its being carried into execu-
ion. The Protector first sounded *^^ divers eminent ministers of the nation,"
/ho were summoned to meet him and his Council, at Whitehall, on the
th of December. The petition of the Jews of Amsterdam was read in their
earing ; when, as the authorised narrative published by Henry Hills, printer to
is Highness the Lord Protector, has it — "The ministers having heard these
proposals read, desired time to consider of them, and the next day was spent in
asting and prayer.'' Adjourned conferences of the Council and Ministers were
leld on the 7th, 12th, and 14th of December, but nothing was resolved upon.
Vnother meeting, on the 18th of December, '^ broke up without coming to any
csolution, or even a farther adjournment." The narrative concludes with this
remark: — '* That his Highness, at these several meetings, fully heard the
Opinions of the ministers touching the said proposals, expressing himself there-
ipon with indifference and moderation, as one that desired only to obtain satis-
action in a matter of so high and religious concernment; there being many
i^lorious promises recorded in Holy Scripture concerning the calling and conver-
iion of the Jews to the faith of Christ : but the reason why nothing was concluded
jpon was, because his Highness proceeded in this, as in all other affairs, with
^ood advice and mature deliberation."
j The object of publishing this narrative was, probably, to try whether the
'general public might not be more favourably disposed to the admission of the
iJews than the ministers. But if Cromwell looked for support in that direction
be reckoned without his host. Prynne forthwith opened a battery against the
proposal, in a publication whose mere title-page almost equals a modern pamphlet:
i'A short Demurrer to the Jews' long-discontinued Remitter into England:
l^omprising an exact chronological relation of their first admission into, their ill
deportment, misdemeanours, condition, sufferings, oppressions, slaughters, plunders
by popular insurrections and regal exactions in, and their total, final banishment,
by Judgment and Edict of Parliament, out of England, never to return again.
Collected out of the best historians. With a brief collection of such English
44 LONDON.
laws and Scriptures as seem strongly to plead and conclude against their re-ad-
mission into England, especially at this season, and against the general calling ol
the Jewish nation. With an answer to the chief allegations for their introduc-
tion." This thundering manifesto, in which the sufferings of the Jews in England
in the olden time are classed along with their misdemeanours, and equally
insisted on as reasons for continuing their exclusion, was followed up by such a
burst of popular clamour, and such an inundation of lampoons, that Cromwell
silently relinquished his project.
Though nothing was directly done in this matter, however, by government,
the Jews and their friends appear to have thought that they might with safety
come and settle in England, without the formality of a legal sanction. It was
probably the idea of a legislative sanction being given to the exercise of the Jewish
religion that startled the public. There had been too little personal intercourse
between Jews and Englishmen for many centuries, to admit of a very rancorous
prejudice existing between them. Accordingly we find, in the very next year,
1656, the first Portuguese synagogue^^erected in King Street, Duke's Place.
The Rabbi, Manasseh-Ben-Israel, was not of the number of those Jews who
ventured to settle in England. Born in Portugal, about the year 1604, and
forced to emigrate by the persecutions of the Inquisition, he succeeded Rabbi
Isaac Usiri in the synagogue of Amsterdam, while yet only in his eighteenth year.;
He engaged in trade, but much of his time was devoted to superintending the
printing of his own works at his private press, and to the discharge of his official
duties. After the failure of his negotiation with Cromwell, he retired to Middle-
burg, in Zealand, where he died in the course of the year 1657. He died poor,
he and his family having been in a great measure supported by a brother settled
in Brazil. The Jews of Amsterdam testified their respect for him by having
his body conveyed to that city^, and buried at their expense in their cemetery.
The care taken by the Jews who settled in England, from their first arrival, to
secure the due celebration of divine service, and the education of their families, has
been most laudable. We have seen that their synagogue was built in the first
year of their settlement; in 1664 — only seven years later — a school was founded
by them to afford instruction to the children of their poorer brethren. This school
was originally called " the Tree of Life." It consisted of two branches : in the
junior branch, instruction in the rudiments of Hebrew and English was given,
preparatory to admission into the superior school, where the more advanced
branches of moral and religious education were imparted till the pupil attained
the age of fourteen. On leaving the school, the scholars received a small grant
of money to assist them in commencing the world. This institution still exists,
though under another name. The management had been entrusted to a large
committee, and, as usual, it was found that " everybody's business was nobody's
business." In 1821, Moses Mocatta, Esq., undertook a reform of the school.
By his exertions the management was transferred to a select committee; an addi-
tional annual subscription was raised for its support ; the advanced school was
called *^ the Gates of Hope ;" and a preparatory school on a new foundation
added. Since that time an annual average of forty-five boys have received in
the advanced school a good solid education in the higher branches of Hebrew,
English grammar, arithmetic, book-keeping, &c. ; and on leaving the establish-
THE OLD JEWRY. 45
nt each has been presented with a premium for apprenticeship, or a sum suffi-
int to enable them to seek a livelihood abroad.
The Portuguese Congregation was the only organised body of Jews in London
tl 1691, when the first German Synagogue was built — also in Duke's Place.
\ie cheapness of the ground in that district, and its proximity to the district in
nich most of the foreign traders settled in London had fixed their domiciles, were
]obably the circumstances that originally induced the Jews to settle in that quar-
1r. The first synagogue was an additional attraction : and the second secured the
] rmanent residence of the German Jews, between whom and those of Spain and
]|)rtugal difference of language, and also some slight difference of ritual, keep up
I trifling shade of distinction. The present Portuguese Synagogue in Be vis
]arks was built in I70I ; and in 1723 the Hamburgh Synagogue was erected in
unchurch Street.
Though not exposed to such fierce persecutions as during the time of their
^■st settlement in Britain, the Jews did not pass altogether unscathed through
e period, during which they were striking root in London. In 1678 several of
le wealthier members of their body were indicted at the instance of some bus}^-
ij)dies, for meeting to celebrate public worship. Again, in 1685, some of them
3re arrested for not attending church. The attempt to pass a Jews' Naturalisa-
:)n Bill stirred up a violent opposition among some narrow-minded sectarians,
id also among some more worldly-minded but equally silly alarmists, who dreamed
lat such a measure would necessarily bring about a transfer of the whole com-
ercial wealthy and ultimately of all the landed property in England, to the Jews.
his may seem an exaggerated account of the language of those members of
arliament and politicians who opposed the Jewish Naturalisation Bill, but any
le who will take the trouble to peruse Sir John Barnard's speech on the occa-
on will find it literally correct.
In 1723 the decision of a Court of Law recognised the Jews born in Great
ritain as British subjects. Since that time the only disabilities under which they
ibour are those imposed by Acts of Parliament levelled against Christian sec-
irians which have accidentally hit the Jews. The Act of 9 Geo. IV., c. 17,
hich substitutes for the sacramental test a declaration by the holders of certain
)rporate offices, '* upon the true faith of a Christian," necessarily though indi-
3ctly incapacitates Jews from filling those offices. The Abjuration Act in like
lanner excludes them from Parliament and from holding any office under
rovernment except in so far as they may be relieved by the annual Indemnity
.ct. Some doubt exists as to whether the Jews are legally entitled to hold real
state. Those who maintain the negative side of the question rest upon an Act
Pthe 55th of Henry III., which declares Jews incapable of purchasing or taking
freehold interest in land ; their opponents allege that the so-called Act is not
roperly an Act of Parliament, but merely an ordinance of the king. De facto,
)me Jews do hold real estate. It is the general opinion that the Jews are
ithin the benefit of the Toleration Act of the 1st of William and Mary as ex-
3nded by the 53rd of George III., c. 160. One disability under which they
ibour presents a curious anomaly in the law. It has been decided that a legacy
iven for the instruction of Jews in their religion is not one which will be sup-
46 LONDON. j
I
ported by the Court of Chancery, though any other kind of charitable bequestj
for the benefit of Jews is valid. '
In short, the Jews hold what privileges they do in England much upon the
same tenure that more favoured classes of subjects hold theirs. The national
spirit has become too enlightened, free, and tolerant to render it possible to exe-
cute old bigoted and oppressive laws ; but a superstitious veneration for any-
thing that has the mere name of a law has left many of those impracticable
enactments, in whole or in part, on the statute-book to tease and harass where
they cannot severely injure.
Precarious though their position in England was at first, and vexatious though
it still is in some respects, the Jews have continued to prosper among us ever since
the days of Rabbi Manasseh-Ben-Israel. Their city of refuge — their metropolis —
is the angular quarter bounded by Bishopsgate, Houndsditch, and the streets of
Leadenhall and Aldgate. Towards the Bishopsgate boundary they become more
intermingled with a Christian population, but in revenge their own surplus popu-
lation has overflowed into the neighbouring Minories, Tower Hill, Spitalfields, &c.
Their progress in filling up this region may be traced by the successive building and
rebuilding of their synagogues. As already noticed, the original Portuguese syna-
gogue was built in 1656, and a new one erected in Bevis Marks in 1701. The
German synagogue was built in Duke's Place in 1691, and rebuilt in 1790. The
Hamburg synagogue was built in Fenchurch Street in 1726. A new synagogue
was erected in Leadenhall Street in 1776; in 1838 it was removed to Great
St. Helen's. The population of the eastern portion of the region around those
places of worship, is essentially Jewish. It has a striking eff*ect when, on a
Saturday afternoon, one passes from the throng and bustle round the Bank,
Exchange, and Mansion House, into the labyrinth of lanes and courts, bounded
by St. Mary Axe, Houndsditch, Leadenhall and Aldgate Streets. It is passing
from a week-day, with all its noise and care, into the silence and repose of a
Sabbath, and of a well-observed Sabbath too — a Scotch one. If the season is
summer, the inhabitants will generally be found sitting outside of their houses,
or in the shadow of their door-ways — the men reading, the women quietly con-
versing. The appearance of all of them is in the highest degree clean, neat, and
respectable.
These are the London Jews. Our information respecting the Westminster
Jews is more imperfect. Their synagogue was rebuilt in 1796; in 1826 it was
removed to St. Alban's Place. The densest settlements of Westminster Jews
are in Holywell Street, and the vicinity behind the church of St. Mary-le-Strand,
and in Monmouth Street and the adjoining region of St. Giles.
The streets and places above-mentioned are the residences of the poorer Jews
and of their more substantial middle-class. The wealthy Jews — the aristocracy
of their community — are to be found resident in the most fashionable streets and
squares of the metropolis. But though thus separated they are not estranged
from their brethren. Their congregational organisation is a chain to bind them
together. The wealthiest Jews are Presidents and Wardens of the different
synagogues. They are also deputies to represent their respective congregations
in the London Committee of Deputies of the British Jews. They act too as
THE OLD JEWRY. 47
residents and Office-bearers of the congregational burial societies, schools, and
ther charities. The associations of boyhood, the influence of religion, the dislike
o quit a society of which they are members, all conspire to keep the Jewish
ommunity — rich as well as poor — united. A sense of interest streno-thens their
ends. The clannish spirit thus kept alive in the tribe enables the wealthier
embers to command, in their often daring financial speculations, the assistance
f the moderate funds of their less wealthy brethren. This is the secret of the
ower of what is called ''the Hebrew party " on the Stock Exchange.
It is no more than justice to the Jews of London to remark that their chari-
ble institutions are, in proportion to their numbers, many, and liberally sup-
rted. One of the most important is their Hospital, at Mile End, established
•y the philanthropic exertions of the late Benjamin and Abraham Goldsmid, who
egan a collection for the purpose among their friends in 1795. So liberal were
he contributions that, in 1797, they were able to purchase with them 20,000/.,
f 3 per cent, stock. The Hospital for the reception and support of the aged
oor, and the education and industrious employment of youth of both sexes, was
iirchased for 2300/. ; an adjoining house, soon added, cost 2000/. The original
ndowments were 30,000/. of 3 per cent, stock. Additions have from time to
ime been made to the funds, and considerable sums expended in rendering the
uildings more commodious. The present inmates are, twelve aged persons,
fty boys, and twenty-nine girls. A synagogue is attached to the establishment
,nd workshops in which the boys are taught shoe-making and chair-making,
hile the girls are instructed in household and needle- v/ork.
The '' Gates of Hope " Charity-school has been noticed already. A Jewish
ree-school was established in Bell's Lane, Spitalfields, in 1818, or rather added
o the old charity, the " Talmud Torah;" in which, in 1841, 298 boys and 162
girls were receiving elementary education, in addition to 21 pupils of the Talmud
Tarah. It was estimated in that year that 3844 had been educated in the insti-
tution since its commencement. The Jews have a well-managed infant-school
in Houndsditch; and an evening school for adult females in White's Row, Spital-
fields, founded and conducted by the persevering charitable exertions of two
Jewish ladies. There is also a National infant-school, superintended by ladies of
the Jewish persuasion, and the Villa-real Girls' school. The Jews' College, a
recent institution, appears to have confined its efforts hitherto to the training of
more efficient candidates for the ministr}^ In addition to these there are almost
innumerable institutions for ministerinir to the necessities and comforts of the
Jewish poor : — Orphan institutions ; societies for clothing and educating fatherless
children : societies for relievinir the indiirent sick; an institution for the relief of
the indigent blind ; a society for assisting the Jewish poor at their festivals, &c. &c.
As might be anticipated from the attention paid to education, there has of late
years been a decided rally among the London Jews in the matter of intellectual
activity. ' The Jewish Chronicle,* an organ of the high orthodox Jews, a curious
and able publication, appeared in 1841-2, but has since been discontinued for a
time. The * Voice of Jacob,' the organ of the more liberal or latitudinarian
Jews, is still carried on. These are weekly publications. There are, or have
been, a Jewish Review and a Jewish Mao^azlnc. The effort to establish a Jewish
48
LONDON.
College was a most creditable struggle, which it is to be hoped will not be
relinquished. This intellectual activity has produced something of the same
fruits among the Jews' as among Christians : a keen controversy is at present
waging between the " British Jews," who may be considered analagous to our
Protestants, and the adherents of '' the Association for preserving inviolate the
ancient rites and ceremonies of Israel."
At the risk of being called dull, we have preferred dwelling upon the substan-
tial qualities of our Jewish brethren, to following the hackneyed track of jokers at
their national and professional peculiarities. The race which has produced men
like the Rothschilds and Montefiores among the strictly orthodox section; the
Goldschmidts among the more relaxed and liberal adherents of the hereditary
faith ; and the Ricardos and Barings among those who have adopted the kindred
but spiritualised tenets of Christianity, is no unimportant element of this country's
population. It is to be hoped that their disqualifications, daily diminishing in
number, may soon be entirely removed. The true way to view such disqualifica-
tions is less as an injury to those subjected to them than as an injury to the
nation which is by their means deprived of the services of those who could serve
it well.
Old Clothesman, from Tempest's ' Cries of Loudon.']
CXXIX.— OLD TRADING COMPANIES.
the London merchant of any particular century could witness the struggles
)r freedom of trade which occurred subsequently to his own times, he would be
stonished at the different objects which were kept in view. All the rights of
Dmmercial freedom which he had contended for had been completely gained.
fo longer are there laws compelling him to send his merchandise to the king's
taple : he can send it to any or every part of the globe. No longer is he an
interloper " in the trade to Turkey, Russia, Africa, or even the East Indies.
'he Italian merchants of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the Steelyard
lerchants of a later period, no longer engross the most valuable part of the
3reign trade of the country. Bruges and Antwerp are no more the great
mporia of traffic to which he was accustomed to resort. London itself has
•ecome the entrepot of the world. The trade of the Venetians in the spices and
lerchandise which they brought overland from India and sent to London in
heir galleys has passed away. Few are reminded by the name of Galley-quay
1 Thames Street, that their once-proud argosies were accustomed to ride there.
Another generation saw the productions of the East brought by the Portuguese
b the great mart of Antwerp, to which the English resorted to exchange for
ihem their wool and broadcloths ; and that trade has also been turned into a new
hannel. Before noticing two or three of the companies which once monopolized
VOL. VI. E
50 LONDON.
the trade to particular countries,* we will glance briefly at a few of the com-
mercial restrictions of bygone times, which show that the struggle for freedom
of trade must be a very old one in this country.
King Hlothaere of Kent, who reigned in the seventh century, enacted that '' If
any of the people of Kent buy anything in the city of London, he must have two
or three honest men, or the King's port-reve (who was the chief magistrate of the
city), present at the bargain." What could have been the trade of London when
such a law as this was in force ? Even after the Conquest laws of this nature
were either continued or revived. Their principal design, no doubt, was to pro
tect the revenue of the King and the lord of the manor, to each of whom,
according to Domesday Book, a certain proportion of the price of everything
sold for more than twenty pennies was paid, the one-half by the buyer and the
other by the seller. The amount specified in the Saxon law would prevent the
rule from affecting the ordinary purchases of the necessaries of life ; but the Con-
queror, it seems, drew the restriction tighter by subjecting all bargains which
involved a larger sum than Ad. to the tedious process of legislation by witnesses.
In the twenty-eighth volume of the ^ Archseologia,' there is a paper by Edward A.
Bond, Esq., " On the loans supplied by Italian merchants to the Kings of Eng-
land in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries," which presents an interesting
view of the commercial state of the country during that period; and it likewise
throws some light upon the circumstances which rendered such laws as Hlothaeres
tolerable. " Specie," it is remarked, '' was scarce, a paper currency a thing
unheard of, and the convenience of exchange by bills was probably as yet only
practised by the Italians themselves. The restrictions and arbitrary regulations
with which trade was shackled, and perhaps the general manner and habits of
life, had hitherto much impeded commercial prosperity. The wealth of the
country was in the hands of the large proprietors of land, and the revenues of the
crown were principally derived from feudal charges, to which territorial posses- '
sions were subject. Rolls of the collection of subsidies, remaining in the Exche- |
quer, show how insignificant a portion of the public taxes was paid by the class i
of merchants and burgesses. We were almost destitute of manufactures. Wool, ;
the staple commodity of the country, was exchanged in the ports of France and
the Low Countries for bullion, wine, and merchandise of other description."
The inland trade of the country was conducted on the most confined scale. " The
produce of each district was exchanged by actual barter among the inhabitants,
at the periodical fairs in the neighbourhood. What foreign commodities were in -
use were bought at the large fairs of Boston, Winchester, and Bristol; and only
partially dispersed through the kingdom by travelling-merchants little above the
rank of modern pedlars. The commercial wealth of the country was collected in
a few towns and cities, such as London, Bristol, Winchester, Lincoln, Boston,
York, and Hull; and the difficulties and dangers of carriage confined the advan-
tages of their prosperity to the immediate vicinity. The arrival of the Italians
at such a time was extremely opportune. The natural produce of the country
was rich and abundant, but it required to be circulated, and in doing this the
activity and means of the foreigners were most beneficially exercised. They
* For a notice of *The East India Company' and * The South Sea Company,' see No. CIV. Vol. V., and
No. XLIV. Vol. ir.
OLD TRADING COMPANIES.
51
)read themselves over the country; they filled the fair of Boston and others with
ireign goods of their own importation ; and their superior opportunities of dis-
osing of wool enabled them to bid high for that commodity, of which a large
roportion passed through their hands." Mr. Bond quotes a return, showdng the
antity of wool in the hands of ten different companies of Italian merchants in
ngland on a certain day in the twenty-second year of Edward I. (1294). The
ing was then at war with France ; and he had issued commands for the arrest
all wool, woolfells, and hides, in whosesoever hands they might be found,
hey were to be retained in the custody of the King's officers in cinder to prevent
e possibility of their being exported into the dominions of the French Kino*,
he returns alluded to were made by the Italians themselves, who were mostly of
lorence and Lucca. One company is designated ' La Compaignie del Cercle
(51anc ;' another ' La Compaignie du Cercle neyr de Florence ;' a third, ' So-
'ietas Ricardorum de Lucca.' The total number of sacks of wool which the ten
ompanies had in their possession was 2380. By far the greater part is stated to
lave been bought of religious houses : indeed many of the companies return as
laving received only from them. It appears that many of the religious houses
vera under engagements to deliver all their wool of one or more years' growth
0 some one of the companies at a period previously stipulated. The Abbey of
iV^averley, for instance, was bound to deliver up all its wool to Frescobaldi Neri
)f Florence, at Kingston-upon-Thames, on the Feast of St. John, and they were
;o receive twenty marks for every sack of good wool, and fifteen marks for each
sack of middle value. " This would render the total quantity of wools returned
jvorth 23,800/. But the returns were incomplete. They were made by the part-
ners in London, and to each a note is added to this effect : — ' We have other
ivools collected in divers parts of the country, which we believe have been
arrested ; but we cannot ascertain the number of sacks until our partners Avho
have the business in charge return to London.' " Before 1344 the Cistercian
Monks, taking advantage of the exemption of ecclesiastics from customs duties,
had become the greatest wool-merchants in the kingdom ; but in the above year
the Parliament interfered, and prohibited ecclesiastical persons from practising
any kind of commerce. In 1390, when the exports still consisted almost entirely
of wool, English merchants were expressly excluded from this branch of trade,
and it was enacted that no denizen should buy wool, except of the owners of the
sheep, and for his own use. The object of this law might either be to favour
the monopoly of the foreign merchants who assisted the sovereign with loans ; or
it might be intended to secure to the growers of wool the profits of the inter-
mediate dealers. Still the plan of increasing profits by diminishing the compe-
tition of buyers was an odd way of accomplishing such an object.
One of the prerogatives assumed by the crown in those days was the right of
restricting all mercantile dealings for a time to a certain place. Thus, in 1245,
Henry III. proclaimed a fair to be held at Westminster, on which occasion he
ordered that all the traders of London should shut up their shops, and carry their
goods to be sold at the fair, and that all other fairs should be suspended through-
out England during the fifteen days it was appointed to last. The object was to
obtain a supply of money from the tolls and other dues of the market; but then
again the citizens of London were equally willing to profit by restrictions in their
e2
52 LONDON.
own favour, equally unfair towards the rest of the country ; such as an ordinanci
of the lord mayor and aldermen, prohibiting any of the citizens from resortiriJ
with their goods to any fair or market out of the city, which was disannulled by ail
act of Parliament passed in 1487-8.
Of a like nature were the regulations of the Staple. A particular port or othe
place was appointed, to which certain commodities were obliged to be brought t(
be weighed or measured, for the payment of the customs, before they could b(
sold, or in some cases imported or exported. Here the king's staple was said t(|
be fixed. The articles of English produce upon which customs were ancientb
paid were wool, sheep-skins or woolfells, and leather ; and these were accordino^b
denominated the staples or staple-goods of the kingdom. Those who ex
ported these goods were called the merchants of the staple. They were in
corporated, or at least recognized as forming a society, with certain privileges!
in the thirteenth century. Hakluyt has printed the charter which they rel
ceived from Edward II. in 1313. It is addressed to the mayor and council o
the merchants of the staple, and the king ordains that all merchants, whethe
natives or foreigners, buying wool and woolfells in his dominions for exportation
should, instead of carrying them for sale, as they had been wont to do, to several
places in Brabant, Flanders, and Artois, carry them in future only to one certain
staple in one of those countries, to be appointed by the said mayor and council
The king soon transferred to his own hands the right of fixing the staple. A
one time it was at Antwerp, at another time at Bruges, then at Calais ; or i
was fixed in some of the principal towns in England. Now and then there was no
staple either at home or abroad, and all merchants came and went freely whereverl
they listed. In 1376 the staple was fixed at Calais, for a time, and all the ordi
nary exports of the kingdom were obliged to be carried there. The inconvenienci
of this regulation was diminished two years afterwards, by the permission to us
other ports on payment of the Calais staple-duties.
In this early period of our commercial history there were also many other vexa-
tious restrictions. In 1275 Edward I. issued an order obliging all foreign mer-
chants to sell their goods within forty days after arrival. They were not allowed
to reside in England except by special licence from the king, and even then were
subjected to various oppressive regulations ; and many of these were continued when;
in 1303, Edward granted a special charter permitting foreign merchants to come
safely to any of the dominions of the English crown, with all kinds of merchan-
dise, and to sell their goods. For instance, with the exception of spices and mer-
cery, they were only allowed to sell the commodities which they brought wholesale.
Wine could not be re-exported without special licence. Every resident foreigner
was answerable for the debts of every other foreign resident. In 1306 a number
of foreign merchants were committed to the Tower, and there detained until they
severally gave security that none of their countrymen should leave the kingdom,
or export any thing from it, without the king's special licence ; and they were
each required to give in an account of his property, both in money and goods.
Again, in 1307, Edward prohibited the foreign merchants carrying out of the
kingdom either coined money or bullion, thus compelling them either to dispose
of their goods by barter, or if they were sold for money to invest the proceeds in
English commodities. In the following year, however, Edward II., who had just
OLD TRADING COMPANIES. 53
cended the throne, exempted the merchants of France from this mischievous
striction. But although other relaxations of the law Avere permitted in va-
us cases, from the impossibility of strictly enforcing it, foreign merchants
mtinued long after to be vexed by attempts to carry into effect the objects
iginally contemplated. In 1335 it was enacted, that no person should carry
t of the kingdom either money or plate without special licence, upon pain of
rfeiture. At length, in 1390, it was enacted that foreign merchants might carry
ay one half of the money for which they sold their goods ; but it was still re-
ired that every alien bringing merchandise into England should find sureties,
fore the officers of the customs, to expend half the value of his imports in the
rchase of wools, leather, woolfells, tin, lead, butter, cheese, cloths, or other com-
odities raised in England. It is curious to remark, that while the exportation
money was forbidden, the remittance of bills was allowed ! Every such bill had
course the effect of preventing the money coming into the country, and thus
feating the object of the statute. Some half century later an act was made (in
39) which ordained that no foreign merchant should sell any goods to another
teigner in England, on pain of the forfeiture of the goods so sold ; and yet
fe legislators of this period had before them the prosperity of Bruges, which
\j the traffic of foreigners had become a greater emporium than London.
Besides the wealthy Italians who at one time engrossed so large a share of the
de of the country, there were various other societies of foreigners enjoying
ftportant commercial immunities and advantages. In 12*20 the merchants of
Ologne had a hall or factory in London, for the legal possession of which they
kid an acknowledgment to the king. Macpherson is of opinion that this Guild-
lall, by the association of the merchants of other cities with those of Cologne,
)ecame in time the general factory and residence of all the German merchants in
jondon, and was the same that was afterwards known by the name of the German
juildhall (Gildhalla Teutonicorum). They were bound to keep one of the city
^ates in repair. Stow says : **I find that Henry III. (1216-72) confirmed to the
nerchants of the Haunce (Hanse), that had a house in the city called Guildhalla
rheutonicorum, certain liberties and privileges. Edward I. also confirmed the
ame ; in the tenth year of whose reign (1282) it was found that the said mer-
chants ought of right to repair the said gate called Bishopsgate ;" on which the
ilderman of the Haunce, he says, granted 210 marks to the mayor and citizens,
md covenanted on the part of the body generally that they and their successors
should from time to time repair the said gate. In 1479 the gate was entirely
rebuilt at their cost. Their Guildhall was in Thames Street, by Cosin Lane.
Btow describes it as '' large, built of stone, with three arched gates towards the
street, the middlemost whereof is far bigger than the other, and is seldom
opened; the other two be mured up: the same is now called the old hall."*
|In 1383 the merchants of the Steelyard (for by this time they had acquired
Ithat name) hired a house adjoining their hall, with a large wharf on the
Thames, and in the alley leading to it they erected various buildings. They had
also another large house here, for which, in 1476, they jjaid the city an annual
rent of 70/. 3s,4d. In 1505 a charter was granted to a body called the Company
* For a view of the Steelyard and some further account respecting the Merchants of the Steelyard, see ' The
Old Royal Exchange,' pp. 284-5, vol. ii.
V
54 LONDON.
of Merchant Adventurers of England, for trading in woollen cloth to the Nether-
lands, and the merchants of the Steelyard were prohibited from interfering with
their new rivals. In 1551 a hot dispute raged between the two fraternities,
which was brought under the notice of the Solicitor- General and the Recorder
of London. It was alleged that, as no particular persons or towns had been
mentioned in the charter of the Steelyard merchants, their privileges had been
improperly extended ; that they had engrossed almost the entire trade carried
on by foreigners in the kingdom ; and, lastly, it was stated that they had
reduced the price of corn by their importations of foreign grain. The Company
of Merchant Adventurers was now evidently the more favoured body, but its
rival still continued to exist until 1597, when, the Emperor Rudolph having
ordered the factories of the English Merchant Adventurers in Germany to be
shut up. Queen Elizabeth directed the Lord Mayor of London to close the house
occupied by the merchants of the Steelyard. They had establishments at Boston
and Lynn.
Although the Company of Merchant Adventurers had only been incorporated!
in 1505, the existence of this association can be traced to the end of the thirteenth!
century. It has been said that it originated in an association of English merchan
for trading in foreign parts, called the Brotherhood of St. Thomas Becket of Can
terbury, which existed about the middle of the thirteenth century. The part whic
the Merchant Adventurers took during the stoppage of the trade with the Ne
therlands in 1493 recommended them to the crown. During this period, sayi
Bacon, the Adventurers '' being a strong Company, and well under-set with ric
men, did hold out bravely; taking off the commodities of the realm, though the
lay dead upon their hands for want of vent." Soon afterwards they began tol
assert a right to prevent any private adventurers from resorting to a forei
market, without they first ^' compounded and made fine with the said Fellowshi
of Merchants of London at their pleasure," upon pain of forfeiture of their goods
In a petition on the subject from the merchants not free of the Fellowship, it isl
stated that this fine ^' at the beginning, when it was first taken, was demande
by colour of a fraternity of St. Thomas of Canterbury, at which time the sai
fme was but the value of half an old noble sterling (85. 4o?.), and so by colou
of such feigned holiness it hath been suffered to be taken for a few years past J
and afterwards it was increased to a hundred shillings Flemish ; and now it is so|
that the said Fellowship and Merchants of London take of every Englishman o
young merchant being there, at his first coming, twenty pounds sterling for a fine
to suffer him to buy and sell his own proper goods, wares, and merchandises tha
he hath there." In consequence of this extortion the private merchants had bee
compelled to withdraw from the foreign marts. These facts are recited in th
preamble of an act passed in 1497, by which the fine the Company was autho
rised to impose was limited to 6/. IS^". 4id. They must now have been a highl
influential body when this was the extent to which the government ventured t
interfere with their attempt to control the whole foreign trade of the country.
Mr. Burgon states, in his '^ Life of Sir Thomas Gresham,' that in the beginnin
of Queen Elizabeth's reign the Merchant Adventurers were in the habit of send
ing their cloths twice a-year, at Christmas and Whitsuntide, into the Low Coun
tries J about one hundred thousand pieces of cloth being shipped annually, whic
OLD TRADING COMPANIES. 55
mounted in value to at least 700,000Z. or 800,000/.; and the merchants were
ccustomed to equip on these occasions a fleet of fifty or sixty ships, manned with
he best seamen in the realm. As London is now, so was Bruges in the four-
eenth, and Antwerp in the sixteenth centuries, the greatest resort of foreign
jmerchants in Europe. In 1385, according to an old writer, merchants from seven-
een kingdoms had their settled domiciles and establishments at Bruges. After
he middle of the fifteenth century Antwerp became the greatest commercial em-
orium in Europe; and about the middle of the next century, when it had at-
tained its highest prosperity, it was said to be no uncommon sight to see two or
three thousand vessels at one time in the Scheldt, laden with merchandise from
every quarter of the globe. Merchants of all nations had fixed their residences
here, preserving the manners of the different countries to which they belonged.
In some years, after the middle of the sixteenth century, the export of English cloth
of all kinds to Antwerp was valued at 1,200,000/. sterling, which sum was again
invested in merchandise for English consumption. To this great emporium the
Portuguese, after the discovery of the passage to India by the Cape of Good
Hope, brought the spices, drugs, and other rich productions of the East. The
Merchant Adventurers of England had a noble mansion at Antwerp, called the
English House, at which Charles V. had been entertained when he made his
triumphal entry into that city in 1520.
The discoveries of the Portuguese and Spaniards thoroughly roused the spirit
of mercantile adventure in England ; and Joint Stock Companies sprung up
under the encouragement of Charters, which gave to the Adventurers the exclu-
sive right of enjoying the advantages to be derived from the discovery of new
countries or the opening of fresh sources of trade. The memory of these com-
mercial companies has almost passed away, yet at one period to have belonged
to the Russia, the Turkey, the African, or the Eastland Companies, gave to the
London merchant a pre-eminence which probably he could not have attained if
unassociated with these bodies. The greatness of the East India Company, and
its existence down to a more recent period^ have thrown into the shade the minor
companies which aimed at establishing a similar monopoly ; but they are, not-
I withstanding, intimately connected with the commercial history of London.
Of all the minor companies, perhaps that which attempted to engross the trade
, with Russia was, at first, the most promising. Russia had not then advanced her
j frontiers to the Baltic, and the first opening of a trade with the Muscovites had
j all the excitement of geographical discovery as well as the ordinary incentives of
I commercial speculation. In 1553 some merchants of London, together with
I several noblemen, established a Company under the title of the '' Merchant
j Adventurers for the Discovery of Lands, Countries, Isles, &c.not before known or
j frequented by any English.'* Three vessels, under the command of Sir Hugh
i Willoughby, were sent out on the first expedition, the main object being to dis-
I cover a north-east passage to China. Sir Hugh Willoughby, with two of the
ships, was compelled to put into a port of Russian Lapland, where they intended
I to pass the winter ; and the whole of them, seventy in number, were found in the
j ensuing spring, frozen to death. The third ship, commanded by Richard Chan-
j cellor, found its way to the White Sea, and thus reached the dominions of the
Czar. Chancellor obtained permission to proceed to Moscow, where he obtained
56 LONDON.
important privileges for carrying on a trade with the Muscovites, and then!
returned to England. The advantages of this new trade were secured to the!
Adventurers by a charter granted in 1555, while those who were not free of the!
Company were prohibited from engaging in the trade under pain of forfeitinj
both ships and merchandise. In 1556 the Company's ships brought the first
Ambassador from the ''Emperor of Cathaie, Muscovia and Russeland." He wasl
unfortunately wrecked on the coast of Scotland, and the presents intended for
Queen Mary were lost. He was met at Tottenham by a splendid procession,
consisting of the members of the Company, on horseback, wearing coats of velvet,
with rich chains of gold about their necks. The Company bore all the expenses
of his embassy. At Islington the ambassador was received by Lord Montacute,|
with the Queen's pensioners ; and the Lord Mayor and Aldermen received himf
in their scarlet robes, at Smithfield, whence they rode with him to Denmark
House, in Fenchurch Street. On the return of the Ambassador in the following
year, a very indefatigable agent of the Company, named Jenkinson, went out at)
the same time, who struck out a new line of commercial intercourse through)
Russia into Persia, by the Wolga and thence across the Caspian Sea. Jenkinson
performed this journey seven different times, and agents from the Company!
visited the Persian court on the business of their new traffic. This branch of]
their trade, however, was not followed up until 1741, when an Act was passed to:
enable them to engage in the E-usso-Persian trade, but the internal troubles of j
the Persian empire caused it soon to be stopped. In 1566 the Company obtained
the protection of an Act of Parliament, as well as their charter, on the ground
that great numbers of private persons had interfered with their trade. The
trade with Russia, Persia, the Caspian Sea, and the countries to the northward,
north-eastward and north-westward, was secured to the Company alone ; and
some provisions Avere made in favour of the citizens of York, Newcastle, Hull,
and Boston, who had traded to Russia in the preceding ten years, but they were
required to make themselves free of the Company before December, 1567. The
future title of the association was to be " The Fellowship of English Merchants for
Discovery of New Trades." The new Russian trade did not prove very lucrative,
and in 1571 its affairs were in an embarrassed state from losses by shipwreck, bad
debts, and the attacks of Polish pirates ; and the expense of embassies had pressed
heavily on their funds. Other complaints were also made. The Czar had cur-
tailed some of their exclusive privileges, and the Dutch appeared as competitors
in the trade. In 1582, however, the Company sent out eleven well-armed ships
to Russia. In 1598 they commenced whaling operations at Spitzbergen, and
asserted an exclusive right to the fishery in that quarter. Sir Walter Raleigh,
in 1603, gave the following summary of the state of the English trade with
Russia. For twenty years together, he remarks, we had a great trade to Russia,
and even about fourteen years ago we sent store of goodly ships thither ; but
three years before he wrote, he states that only four had been sent, and a year or
two after that only two or three, while the Hollanders dispatched from thirty to
forty ships, each as large as two of ours, chiefly laden with English cloth and
herrings taken in the Enghsh seas. This falling off, he tells us, had been brought
about by " disorderly trading." The disputes of the Company with the Dutch
whalers began also to thicken. In 1612 the Company seized the Dutch ships
OLD TRADING COMPANIES. 57
jngaged in the fishery ; but in the following year our great commercial rivals
tjent eighteen ships to Spitzbergen, four of which were well armed, while our
inhalers were only thirteen in number, and the Dutch fished in spite of the Com-
any's exclusive pretensions. The East India and Russia Companies were united
or the i3rosecution of the whale-fishery. The hope of disco verino- a north-
bast passage to China had probably led to this union of interests at Spitzbergen ;
ut after a bad year's fishing in 1619 their partnership was dissolved ; though the
shery was still continued by the Russia Company, and in 1635 the importation of
whale-fins or whale-oil was prohibited, except by the Company in its corporate capa-
ity alone. In 1669 the English Company was placed by the Czar precisely on the
ame footing as the Dutch, and the Earl of Carlisle, who was sent as ambassador,
|iras not able to negotiate any better terms for them. From this time the asso-
Idiation became what is called a regulated company, that is, each member traded
on his own account. In 1699 the admission-fee of members was fixed by Act of
Parliament at a sum not exceeding 5/. The Company still elects its oflficerSj and
gives an annual dinner, which is attended by merchants engaged in the Russian
ttade, and usually by the Russian Ambassador. The expenses of the Association
are paid out of trifling duties levied on merchandise and produce imported from
Kussia. The English Factory in Russia, now established at St. Petersburg, is
little more than a society formed of some of the principal English merchants ;
and Mr. M'Culloch states that its power extends to little else than the manage-
itient of certain funds under its control.
The Turkey Company was chartered twenty years later than the Russia Com-
pany, but it continued to enjoy its privileges for a much longer period. Only
Seventy years ago Adam Smith termed this association '' a strict and an oppressive
itionopoly." In 1579 Queen Elizabeth sent William Harburn, an English mer-
chant, to Turkey, who obtained permission of the Sultan for the English to trade
on the same terms as the French, Venetians, Germans, Poles, and others.
Two years afterwards the Queen granted for seven years the exclusive right of
carrying on a trade between Turkey and England to a company, consisting of
four eminent merchants of London, with power to increase their number to twelvd.
In their charter it is stated that " Sir Edward Osburn and Richard Staper had,
at their own great costs and charges, found out and opened a trade to Turkey,
not heretofore in the memory of any man now living known to be commonly
used and frequented by way of merchandise, by any the merchants or any subjects
of us or our progenitors, Avhereby many good offices may be done for the peace
of Christendom, relief of poor Christian slaves, and good vent for the commodi-
ties of the realm." Any other subjects trading to Turkey either by sea or land
were to forfeit ships and goods. In the last six years for which the charter was
granted, the Company were to export sufficient goods to Turkey to realize a
customs duty of 500Z. a-year. In the following year the Company commenced
their commercial operations, having built ships which were then considered of
large burthen, for which they were greatly commended by the Queen and
Council. An envoy was sent out to deliver the Queen's letters to the Sultan
to establish factories and regulations for the English trade. The French and
Venetians were particularly adverse to these new competitors, whose returns at
first are said to have been three for one. In 1584 some members of the Company
58 LONDON.
carried part of their cloth, tin, &c., from Aleppo to Bagdad, and thence down
the Tigris to Ormus, in the Persian Gulf, whence they proceeded to Goa with a
view of opening an overland trade to India. They carried the Queen's recom
mendatory letters '* to the King of Cambaya and the King of China," and before
their return visited Agra, Lahore, and various parts of India. In 1593 the
charter of the Turkey Company was renewed for twelve years, and it now con-
sisted of fifty-three persons, knights, aldermen, and merchants ; and the number
might be increased to eighteen additional members (three to be aldermen), on
condition that each person paid a fine of 130/. to the Company to indemnify
them for their past charges in establishing the trade. The Venetians having
lately increased the duties on English merchandise, were prohibited importing
currants and Candian wine without the licence of the Turkey Company. On
the termination of the above charter a new one was granted in 1605, by King
James, for a perpetuity. It provided for the admission of members by a payment
of 25/. to the Company from merchants under the age of twenty-six, and 50/. if
above that age ; and all their apprentices were entitled to their freedom on pay
ment of 20^. only. In 1615 we find the Turkey Company complaining of their
diminished commerce to the Levant, for the countries supplied from that quarter
began to receive commodities sent from England by the Cape of Good Hope.
The Dutch also now employed above a hundred sail in the Levant trade, while
the Turkey Company sent thirty ships fewer than formerly. However, in 1621,
Mr. Munn, in his ' Discourse of Trade,' says, that of all Europe England drove
the most profitable trade to Turkey, by reason of the vast quantities of broad
cloth exported thither. Nothing remarkable^ in the history of the Company
occurred until 1681, when a warm dispute ensued between it and the East India
Company, and the former made a direct appeal to the King's Council. The
Turkey Company stated that they exported English goods, chiefly cloth, of the
value of 500,000/., for which they brought in exchange raw silk and other ma-
terials of manufacture, but chiefly silk ; and they complained that if this article
were supplanted by silk from India, the exports to Turkey must necessarily fall ft
ofl", as three-fourths of their value were received in Turkey silk^ the other com-
modities of Turkey not being equivalent to carry on more than a fourth of the
present trade. The facility with which all who were bred merchants could enter
the Turkey Company was compared with the exclusive nature of the East India
Company, which was a joint-stock association, and did not permit members trad-
ing on their own bottom. Thus the members of the Turkey Company had in-
creased from seventy persons to at least five hundred between 1640 and 1680.
The number of actual merchants in the East India Company was not more than
a fifth of the whole number of members. The Turkey Company asked the
Council to concede to them the right of trading to the Eed Sea and all other
dominions of the Sultan, and to have access thereto by the Cape of Good Hope.
In their reply the East India Company adverted to the respective constitution of
the two bodies, remarking that " noblemen, gentlemen, shopkeepers, widows,
orphans, and all other subjects, may be traders, and employ their capitals in a
joint-stock, whereas, in a regulated company, such as the Turkey Company is,
none can be traders but such as they call legitimate or bred merchants." Forty
years afterwards, in 1720, the number of persons who were members of the Turkey
OLD TRADING COMPANIES. 59
Company was two hundred. In the next twenty years the French trade increased
so much in the Levant, while that of the Turkey Company had diminished,
I that a bill was brought into Parliament for abolishing the privileges of the asso-
ciation as the most probable way of enabling our trade to regain its ascendancy.
The advocates of the Company were heard at the bar, and their reasons against
the measure were considered strong enough to defeat it. The Company was
I still at a very great expense in supporting the charge of an Ambassador at Con-
stantinople, and Consuls in other parts of Turkey, as Aleppo, Smyrna, &c.,
where their factories had been established. Perhaps the circumstance which told
most strongly in favour of the Company's interests was the belief that if the
trade were thrown open it would quickly pass into the hands of the Jews,
who were great supporters of the bill. In 1753 an act was passed, which made
several important changes in the constitution of the Company, the preamble of
which recited the most probable means of recovering the trade to be, " The tak-
ing of lesser fines for being made free of this Company ; and the not restraining
the freedom thereof to mere merchants, and to such persons as, residing within
twenty miles of London, are free of the said City ;" also the liberty of shipping
goods from whatever port, and on board such ships as happened to be most con-
venient. Hitherto no merchandise could be exported to Turkey except in ships
belonging to the Company, and, as' these only sailed from London, the trade
was entirely confined to that port. Under the new act every subject of Great
Britain could be admitted a member of the Company, after giving thirty days'
notice, and paying a fine of 20/. Thus, some of the principal abuses to which
the Turkey trade was subject were removed. In 1825 the Company ceased to
exist.
The trade to Africa, which commenced about the year 1530, and^was for some
time an open trade, was eventually restricted to a joint-stock company. At first
a patent was granted for ten years to several merchants in Devonshire and two of
London, for an exclusive trade to the rivers Senegal and Gambia, because, as it
was alleged, " the adventuring of a new trade cannot be a matter of small charge
and hazard to the adventurers in the beginning." The trade seems to^have been
carried on in rather a desultory manner by the patentees, and for some time after
the expiration of their privileges it appears to have been discontinued entirely.
In 1618, however. King James granted an exclusive charter to Sir Robert Rich
and other persons in London, authorizing them to raise a joint-stock fund for
trading to Guinea ; but the Company was apparently unable to keep oiit inter-
lopers, or to compete with the Dutch, and was broken up. Another African
Company was formed in 1631, by Sir Richard Young, Sir Kenelm Digby, and
several London merchants, and a charter was obtained for an exclusive trade to
Guinea, and other parts of the west coast of Africa, for thirty-one years. Forts
and factories were erected; but though the Company was empowered to seize the
ships of private traders they were unable to keep the trade to themselves ; and,
to compromise matters, they agreed to grant licences to the interlopers. During
the civil war the African trade became generally open ; and the Dutch and Danes
destroyed the Company's forts and took their ships. As soon as the charter had
expired, another Company was set on foot, in 1662, at the head of which was the
Duke of York and many persons of rank and distinction. One of the conditions
lie]
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60 LONDON.
of their charter was to supply the West India plantations with three thousand!
negroes annually. The first operations were directed to the recovering possessio
of the forts, for which purposes fourteen ships were sent out, and they were re-
taken; but the Dutch, under De Ruyter, got possession of them again in th
same year. The Duke of York, by way of retaliation, seized above a hundred
Dutch merchant ships, on which a war was formally declared between the two
countries. The result was that this African Company shared the fate of its pre
decessors. These discouragements did not prevent the formation of a fourth
company, at the head of which were the King, the Duke of York, and several per
sons of rank. A capital of 111,000/. was raised in nine months ; a sum of 34,000/.
Avas paid to the late Company for three of their forts; and operations were com
menced with considerable spirit and with tolerable success. The former compa
nies had been in the habit of making up their assortment of goods in Holland,
but the manufacturing skill and industry of England had now so much improved if^^ed
that it was no longer necessary to resort to our neighbours. For several years the B^^'^'
new Company exported British goods to the value of 70,000/. annually, and out of the ^™er
gold which they imported fifty thousand ' guineas' were coined in 1672. At the Re- 'tis
volution the West India planters joined the free traders in attacking the Company's
privileges ; the former asserting that they were always best served with negroes
when the trade was open. By the petition and declaration of rights an end Avas
put to exclusive trading companies not authorized by Parliament, and the African
trade became an open one ; but for some time afterwards the Company persisted
in seizing the ships of the private traders, as they were empowered to do by their
exclusive charter. By the end of the century the private traders had secured the
greatest share of the trade ; but as the African Company was at the expense of
maintaining forts and factories, and paid the salaries of governors and a numerous
staff of officers, the legislature felt bound to indemnif}'' them for their charges on
this account, and an act was passed in 1698 for levying a per centage on the pri-
vate traders, who were no longer to be termed interlopers. The African Company
long hankered after its old privileges, and made several attempts to obtain the
sanction of the legislature for an exclusive charter, but the measure was always
vigorously opposed by the free traders. Still the Parliament, although it passed
resolutions as to the necessity of rendering the trade completely free, did not act
upon them ; and so long as the forts on the coast continued in the Company's hands
they necessarily enjoyed a certain degree of pre-eminence which could not so easily
be dispensed with. In 1730 Parliament granted 10,000/. for the purpose of keeping
these forts in repair ; and as from this time an annual grant was made for the pur- Bosts
pose, the chief impediment to opening the trade no longer existed. Accordingly,
in 1750, an act was passed by which the African Company ceased to be a joint- Bdie
stock association, but became a regulated company, under the title of '' The He
Company of Merchants trading to Africa/' the forts, settlements, and factories of
the old Company being transferred to the new body. The government of the new
Company was vested in a committee of nine, elected by persons who had paid forty
shillings for the freedom of the Company. Three of the committee were chosen in
London, and three each in Bristol and Liverpool. Their power extended only to
the government of the forts and factories, and they were not allowed to interfere
with the trade. A sum of 800/. was allowed for the expenses of management in Ki
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OLD TRADING COMPANIES. 61
^^ London, which was increased in 1764 to 1200/. In 1821 the charter was recalled,
ind the Company has ceased to exist.
The Eastland Company consisted of merchants trading to the ports of the
Baltic, and was incorporated by Queen Elizabeth in 1579, with a view of en-
couraging an opposition to the Hanse Merchants. In 1672 an Act was passed
by which the trade with the ports on the north side of the Baltic was laid open
without reserve, and the eastern ports to all who paid a fine of 40.?. to the East-
land Company. Sir Joshua Child, in his ' Discourses on Trade,' states that the
low rate of interest in Holland, and the '' narrow, limited Companies of England,"
had thrown the Baltic trade into the hands of the Dutch, who had no Eastland
Company, and yet ten times as much trade as the English in those ports, whereas
impalto Italy, Spain, and Portugal, which was an open trade for both nations, we had
lani as extensive a commerce as the Dutch. The Eastland Company, long after it had
ceased to exist commercially, continued to elect its annual officers, having a
small stock in the funds to defray the expenses of a yearly commemoration of its
former existence.
It is unnecessary to proceed with the history of the minor trading companies
which existed at different times. The Hamburgh, Greenland, and other Com-
panies were of too limited a nature to exercise much influence on the commerce
of London.
The Hudson's Bay Company is the only one of the old trading associations
which still continues in active operation. It was first incorporated on the 2nd of
May, 1670. In the preceding year Prince Rupert, cousin of Charles II., with
seventeen persons of rank and distinction, had sent out a ship to the Bay to
ascertain the probability of opening a trade in that quarter for furs, minerals,
&c., and the report being favourable they procured their charter. No minerals
have been found, but the fur trade has proved a mine of wealth. William the
Conqueror's New Forest was a mere speck in comparison to this noble hunting
ground of this English trading company. It comprises an area of between two and
three million square miles, or a space some forty or fifty times larger than Eng-
land, extending from Hudson's Bay to the shores of the Pacific, and from the
I frontiers of the United States to the Arctic Sea. This vast region is diversified
with mountains, rocks, lakes, rivers, waterfalls, swamps, and forests ; and the
pursuit of the beasts of chace which inhabit it leads men from their civilized
Jiomes to pass years in the wilderness in adventures with grisly bears, or other
wild animals, and often with savage men equally untamed. Here, bitten by the
frosts of winter, and stung by the musquitoes and sand-flies in summer; often on
short commons ; sometimes reduced to live on the flesh of their horses ; spending
a dreary winter at one of the '' forts," the servants of the Companypass their wild
adventurous life. For nearly a century after the Hudson's Bay Company was
chartered, Canada was a French colony ; and not only when hostilities existed
"between France and England, but even at other times, the forts of the Company
were occasionally attacked. The French-Canadians also prosecuted the fur trade
with remarkable success, adapting themselves to circumstances with that facility
which distinguishes the natives of France. The coureurs des hois plunged into
forests with the red man, learned his language, intermarried with the race, and
were often adopted in his tribes. By this means the northern part of that vast
hcif
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62 LONDON.
continent became eventually as familiar to the fur traders as the neighbourhood
of Montreal. Before the dominion of France ceased in Canada, the French had
pushed their fur trade to the foot of the Eocky Mountains. A new impulse was
given to it when Canada became a British colony, and the Anglo-Canadians
entered into this branch of enterprise, at first desultorily, being content with
what are now considered short expeditions of 1500 or 1600 miles from Montreal.
But this limited field did not long satisfy the more enterprising traders, who pushed
into unknown regions and were richly rewarded for their exertions. Others soon
followed, until the keenness of competition threatened to destroy the trade. This
state of things led to the union of the fur traders of Canada in 1783, under the
name of the "North-West Company." The Canadian French were already
trained to their service, and the principle of the association was well calculated
to direct the feelings of individual self-interest to the general objects of the united
body. The clerks had the prospect of becoming partners after certain periods of
service, and many of them acquired wealth. Most of them were natives of Scot-
land. Sir Alexander Mackenzie, who rose from a clerkship, is known to the
public by his geographical discoveries, and by the river which bears his name.
The recent acquisitions to geographical knowledge made by Messrs. Simpson and
Dease, in the service of the Hudson's Bay Company, are well known. The furs are
collected from the hunters at the different *' forts " and *' houses " of the Company.
Fort William, on Lake Superior, was established as a sort of half-way house
between Montreal and the posts in the interior. It was really managed like a
garrison, the partners acting as commanding officers, the clerks as subalterns,
and the French- Canadians and Indians forming: the rank and file. At the
close of the season the '' winterers " arrived, the furs and skins which they
brought were assorted^ and accounts were settled. After dinner partners and
clerks made merry in the great hall, and enjoyed their long nights of revelry and
ease; while the voyageurs, Indian half-breeds, and a motley group were not less
enjoying themselves in the court-yard. Ross Cox, whose 'Adventures' abound
with the most lively descriptions of the life of the fur traders, was at Fort Wil-
liam in 1817, and ascertained that "^the aggregate number of persons in and
about the establishment was composed of natives of the following countries : —
England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Germany, Italy, Denmark, Sweden, Holland,
Switzerland, United States, Canadians, Africans, and a mixed progeny of Creoles."
The " winterers " are allowed, after a certain time, to have their turn of going
to Montreal, and those between Montreal and Fort William are sent into the
interior. Arduous as was the task of conveying between Montreal and Fort
William the stores and articles of barter and the furs obtained from the trappers
and hunters, it was in the interior that real hardships were experienced. " Here,'*
says Ross Cox, '' no sign of civilization was to be seen ; not a church, or chapel,
or house, or garden, nor even a cow, a horse, or a sheep ; nothing during the entire
day ; just rocks, rivers, lakes, portages, waterfalls, and large forests ; bears
roaring a tattoo every night, and wolves howling a reveille every morning."
The activity of the North- West Company at length roused the Hudson's Bay
Company, which laid claim to the right of trading in a large portion of the country
where the North- West Company had established their forts ; but the claim was
disregarded, and a strong spirit of mutual jealousy and opposition sprung up
I
OLD TRADING COMPANIES. 63
etween them. In 1813 the North- West Company bought Astoria, on the
olumbia river, which Mr. Astor, of New York, and his other partners had been
Icompelled to relinquish in consequence of the war between Great Britain and
jthe United States. The North-West Company's establishments now extended
from the Atlantic to the Pacific. The Hudson's Bay Company had also extended
|its chain of posts over its vast territory. Soon after the commencement of the
resent century an open war broke out between the two Companies, already far
emoved from the restraints of law. Forts were surprised and parties were
intercepted and taken prisoners, according to the ordinary practices of belli-
erents. This unfortunate state of things was happily put an end to by the
nion of the North -West Company with the Hudson's Bay Company, in 1821.
he united body retain the name of the Hudson's Bay Company, which has for its
!*'field of chase" the whole of North America, from the frontiers of Canada and
jthe United States to the Frozen Ocean, and from the shores of Labrador to those
of the Pacific. The mere enumeration of the distances between some of the
forts will give but an inadequate idea of the difficulties of transporting skins
and stores from one to another. The routes taken are chains of lakes and
rivers, connected by links of portages, where the canoes and packages must
be carried by the voyageurs. From Fort William on Lake Superior to Cum-
berland House, on the main branch of the Saskatchewan River, is 1018 miles;
from Cumberland House to Fort Chepewyan, on Lake Athabasca, is 840 miles ;
thence to Fort Resolution on Great Slave Lake, is 240 miles. The Mackenzie
River flows out of this lake, and there are three forts on it. The first is Fort
Simpson, 338 miles from Fort Resolution ; Fort Norman, 236 miles lower down ;
and Fort Good Hope, 312 miles below Fort Norman, is the most northerly of the
Hudson's Bay Company's establishments, being about 3800 miles from Montreal.
Yet the clerks in charge of these establishments look upon each other as neigh-
bours ! '' At a great number of our posts," says Mr. Pelly, the Governor of the
Hudson's Bay Company, '' potatoes are cut off even by summer frosts, and they
cannot grow corn." Pemmican or dried meat is there the chief article of subsist-
ence ; and it is always necessary to victual each establishment much in the same
way as a ship about to depart on a long voyage. The clerks of the United Com-
panies are still mostly Scotchmen ; and Mr. Pelly says, " If they conduct them-
selves well as clerks, they are promoted and become traders, and afterwards
factors. The chief factors and chief traders, as they are called, participate in the
profits."
The furs obtained each season are shipped to London from Hudson's Bay,
Montreal, and from the Columbia river. In 1788 upwards of 127,000 beaver
skins were exported from Canada ; but although the hunting-grounds in British
North America are now so much more extensive, the number within the last
ten years has never exceeded 104,429; and the average of the six years from
1835 to 1840 was only 68,304. The Company now maintain beaver preserves
In their territories. Whenever the animals become scarce in any district the
post or fort in the neighbourhood is removed, and the natives also shift their
quarters along with it.
The great sales of the Hudson's Bay Company, at their house in Fenchurch
Street, take place twice a year at fixed periods, usually about Easter and early
1
64 LONDON.
in September, and are remarkable for the number of foreigners who attend them,
particularly from Germany. Before steam navigation had given certainty to the
voyage, it not unfrequently happened that the day of sale was obliged to be post-
poned, in consequence of the non-arrival of the packets, from contrary winds. So
many of the buyers are of Jewish race that the sales are not proceeded with on
the Saturday. The beaver-skins are bought by the great hat -manufacturers, and
are not re-exported. The other English buyers are the furriers, a large propor-
tion of whom are Germans, or of German extraction, as their names sufficiently
indicate. The foreign buyers carry their furs to the great fairs at Frankfort and
Leipzig, whence they are distributed over Europe. Some find their way to the
great Russian fair of Nijny- Novgorod, and are carried thence to Kiakhta by the
Russian traders. This singular Russo-Chinese entrep6t is resorted to by the
Tartar traders, who convey the furs to Pekin. The history of a skin, from its
coming into the hands of the hunter to its forming a part of the robe of a Chinese
mandarin, would be a curious illustration of the untiring energy of the commer-
cial j)rinciple.
It is not solely as a defence against the severity of the climate that furs are
valued. The taste for wearing them is characteristic of the Tartar and Slavonic
races wherever they are found, whether in Southern Russia, Poland, Persia,
Turkey, or China, and also of the people of Teutonic origin in the middle and
western parts of Europe. At one period the use of furs in England was a dis
tinguishing mark of rank and consideration. A statute of Edward III. confined
the wearing of fur in their clothes to the royal family, and to '' prelates, earls
barons, knights, and ladies, and people of Holy Church which might expend by
year an C\i of their benefices at the least." Henry VI H. also enacted a sump
tuary law respecting the use of furs. In 1567, Henry Lane, in a letter to Hak-
luyt, the collector of English voyages, expresses his regret that the use of furs
should not be renewed, '^'^ especially in courts and amongst magistrates, because,"
says he, '^ they are for our climate wholesome, delicate, grave, and comely ; ex
pressing dignity, comforting age, and of long continuance ; and better with small
cost to be preferred than those new silks, shags and rags, wherein a great part o
the wealth of the land is hastily consumed."
[Statue of Charles I., with the unfinished Nelson Testimonial.]
CXXX.— PUBLIC STATUES.
In glancing at the title of this paper, which, let us aslc, of the public statues of
London would in all probability first occur to the generality of readers ? There
can be but one answer to the question— the statue of Charles L at Charing
Cross, which is one of the best, one of the earliest, and by far the most historically
interesting of the whole. At Charing Cross, then, let us commence our survey
of the chief of these works. The place itself may be said to be sacred from a very
early period to the great object of monumental sculpture, that of commemorat-
ing persons whose virtues have shed a glory upon our common humanity : for here
it was that the body of the admirable queen of Edward I., Eleanor, rested for
the last time on its way from Lincolnshire to the Abbey, and where accordingly,
as at all the other resting-places, a cross v-^as erected by her husband; m whose
VOL VI.
66 LONDON.
prolonged life of ruthless warfare this event forms a most touching incident.
But the name — Charing Cross itself, whence is that derived? '^ From the village
existing here even before the erection of the cross/' answers your mere antiquary,
glad to adopt any hypothesis rather than one which has a ''taint" of poetry or
romance in it; but, really, he must excuse us, if, in the present instance, in the
absence of a particle of proof that there was a village here before the period in
question, we believe the popular and romantic explanation of the name, to be
also the most probable and satis factory, — and that is, Chere Reipie, or dear queen.
The cross was first sculptured in wood, which was afterwards replaced by one of
stone. This was of an octagonal form, in the pointed style of architecture, deco-
rated with no less than eight figures. We may judge of the quality of the sculp-
ture by looking at the recumbent statue of the "dear queen" in Westminster,
which is supposed to be by the same artists, scholars of the school of Niccolo
Pisano ; a statue of almost unequalled purity and beauty. It is not wise to
undervalue the services of the church reformers of the sixteenth century, but, in
commercial phrase, there is a heavy per contra to the account : the destruction of
the statue at Charing Cross forms one among the long list of items.
The associations of the statue which, in the following century, succeeded to the
site of the cross, are generally of a painful character ; but there is one notice-
able exception. The exceedingly expressive and beautiful piece of sculpture,
which represents Charles I. (the earliest equestrian public statue in London, by
the way), may be looked upon as a happy memorial of one of the most enlightened
and munificent patrons of art England has known. And, since there appears
little probability of our coming to an unanimous opinion as to whether Charles
was a martyr or a tyrant, we may at least unite in honouring the memory of him
who brought the Cartoons into this country, who helped to make the names of
Raphael, Titian, Correggio, Guide, and Rubens household words among us, who
had Vandyke for his chief painter, Inigo Jones for his chief architect. The
artist of the king's statue, Hubert le Soeur, was himself one of the numerous
band of able men whom Charles's taste and liberality tempted hither. He was
a pupil of John of Bologna, and arrived in London about 1630. Of the many
works executed by him in bronze in this country, the statue at Charing Cross
seems to be the only one ever mentioned now, perhaps as being the only one now
existing. This was cast in 1633, for the Earl of Arundel, the famous collector,
and to whom Charles is said to have been materially indebted for his artistical
tastes. The subsequent history of the statue is very curious. During the civil
wars it was sold to a brazier in Holborn, of the name of John River, with orders
to break it in pieces ; the brazier, however, was too much of a loyalist, or too
much an admirer of art (which is the more likely, as the statue would hardly have
been sold to a known favourer of the royal cause), or, which is likeliest of all, had
too keen a perception of its pecuniary value at some future time, to obey his
orders ; so he buried it, and satisfied the oflficers of government by showing them
some broken pieces of metal. That our "worthy brazier/' as he has been called,
was not overburdened with any very strict principles of honesty we know from an
amusing anecdote related by M. d'Archenholz, who says he cast a vast number
of handles of knives and forks in brass, which he sold as made of the broken
statue. They were bought with great eagerness by both parties — by the
PUBLIC STATUES. 67
loyalists as a mark of affection to their monarch, and by the republicans as a
memorial of their triumph. At the Restoration the statue was, of course, restored
;oo. And, as a preliminary, a libation of blood was poured forth, as if to wash
iway the memory of its temporary degradation. Here the scaffold was erected
or the execution of the men of the Commonwealth ; and, to mark beyond the pos-
dbility of mistake the thirst for vengeance from which the act sprang, the
xecutioners, inspirited by the presence of the king at a short distance, and ful-
lilling, no doubt, the orders given to them, actually revelled in cruelty, adding
ortures that not even the execrable terms of the sentence could be supposed to
nclude. When Coke was cut down and brought to be quartered, one Colonel
Turner called to the sheriffs' men to bring Mr. Peters to see what was doing ;
vhich being done, the executioner came to him, and rubbing his bloody hands
ogether, asked him *^' how he liked that work?" The answer of the brave and
ligh-principled man was simply that he was not at all terrified, and that he might
lo his worst. And when he was upon the ladder, he said to the sheriff, " Sir,
^ou have butchered one of the servants of God before my eyes, and have forced
ne to see it, in order to terrify and discourage me, but God has permitted it for
ny support and encouragement."* These were not very attractive reminiscences
;o be connected with any statue, and the matter was still worse when the con-
lexion was so intimate as between the events and the individual represented by
:he particular statue in question. For the time, at least, it ceased to be looked
apon as anything but a party memorial, and it was treated accordingly. Andrew
iMarvell, especially, seems to have made it for London what the celebrated statue
)f Pasquin was for Rome, a vehicle for lampoons against the government. Here
s his first notice of the statue, written evidently whilst it was in process of restora-
:ion :
" What can be the mystery, why Charing Cross
This five months continues still muffled with board ?
Dear Wheeler, impart, we are all at a loss
Unless we must have Punchinello restor'd.
" 'Twere to Scaramouchio too great disrespect
To limit his troop to this theatre small,
Besides the injustice it were to eject
That mimic, so legally seiz'd of Whitehall.
******
** No, to comfort the heart of the poor Cavalier
The late King on horseback is here to be shown ;
What ado with your Kings and your statues is here !
Have we not had enough, pray, already of one ?
" Does the Treasurer think men so loyally true
When their pensions are stopp'd to be fool'd with a sight ?
And 'tis forty to one, if he play the old game
He'll reduce us ere long to rehearse forty- eight, "f
This, from a patriot like Marvell, presents but an awkward commentary on the
ioings of the restored government. The date of the verses is pretty nearly
marked by the allusion to the stoppage of the pensions in the last verse, which,
no doubt, refers to the King's wholesale robbery of the kingdom by the sudden
* Ludlow's Memoirs. f Forty-eight— ^\!i\Q year of Charles's execution.
f2
68
LONDON.
close of the Exchequer^ in 1672, whicli spread ruin far and wide, not only by the
positive losses incurred, but also by the destruction of public credit. Bankers
and commercial men especially suffered. That one of these should almost imme-
diately afterwards erect a public statue to the monarch who had thus signalised
his reign, was odd enough : and we cannot wonder that Andrew Marvell was once
more roused ; and, as he has connected the history of this statue with the one at
Charing Cross, as we shall presently have occasion to show, we may here pause a
moment to notice it. On and around the site of the present Mansion House,
there was formerly a market known as the Stocks Market, in which was a con-
duit ; to commemorate at once his loyalty and his mayoralty. Sir Robert Vynerj
set up an equestrian statue of Charles II. on the top of this conduit. Neither as
a likeness nor as a work of art did the statue attract admiration : Marvell says,
" When each one that passes finds fault with the horse,
Yet all do affirm that the King is much worse ;
And some by the likeness Sir Robert suspect
That he did for the King his own statue erect.
******
Thus to see him disfigur'd — the herb-women chide,
Who upon their panniers more gracefully ride."
The explanation came out at last : Sir Kobert Vyner, like another wealth}
citizen, when bent upon an expensive pleasure had still a frugal mind, and so
having got hold of a statue of John Sobieski, King of Poland, with his horse
trampling down a Turk, converted it into a Charles the Second; and as to th(|
prostrate figure, if it was hinted, as was very natural, that it was Cromwell
why. Sir Robert could only smile, and own the '' soft impeachment." Afte
the pulling down of the conduit, the statue lay for years among the rubbish abou
Guildhall; but in 1779 it was given by the Common Council to a descendant o
the original giver, who removed it to his country seat, where, for aught we know!
it is still preserved. Might it not be recovered by a proper application ? W
cannot but regret the loss of such an inexhaustible treasury of mirth — of s<j
capital a sculptured joke, only the more amusing from the reflection that \{
author by no means intended anything of the kind.
In looking at the allusions contained in the lampoons of Marvell, we need t
refresh our recollections of the actual events of the time, in order to avoid doin
the satirist injustice; it is hard to believe that the *^ merry monarch" could b
so very despicable as he is described. Unfortunately, however, what Marvell an
others then said upon the strength of individual conviction, rather than frorj
positive proof, has been since proved to be true to an extent that they coul
hardly have been aware of. We do not allude to the profligacy of the domestic lift
but to the before unheard-of conduct in English annals, of an English monarc
becoming a secret pensioner of the court of France, and making the foreig
policy of the one state dependent upon the bribes of the other. Who can wonde
at the indignation of a man who called Milton friend ; a man whose entire histor
proves alike the probity, the enthusiasm, the courage, and the ability, that b
devoted to the public service ? The paper which has chiefly led to these remark
is in the form of a dialogue between the two statues of Woolchurch (or Stoe
Market) and Charing. Marvell, after giving various reasons to show that \\
need not be surprised at what he is going to relate, gives us to understand th£
PUBLIC STATUES. 69
the riders, weary of sitting so long, stole away one evening, and that the horses
took the opportunity of meeting each other and having a little conversation^ par-
taking, it must be acknowledged, of the scandalous. After some plain speaking
as to the subserviency of church and state to the King's mistress, with allusions to
[the injury done to widows and orphans by the closing of the Exchequer, as before
j mentioned, to maintain the pride of the said lady, at all of which, remarks the
Charing horse to his companion,
" My brass is provoked as much as thy stone, — "
They both break into a kind of frenzy at the sights that meet them on all sides
in connection with the government. Thus runs the alternate complaint —
Woolchurch. — To see Dei Gratia writ on the throne
And the King's wicked life say God there is none.
; Charing. — That he should be styled Defender of the Faith
Who believes not a word what the Word of God saith.
Woolchurch. — That the Duke should turn Papist, and that Church defy
For which his own father a martyr did die.
^ Charing. — Though he changed his religion, I hope he's so civil
^ Not to think his own father is gone to the devil.
After a good deal more in the same strain. Charing seems to remember they are
getting warm, so bids Woolchurch
. Pause, brother, awhile, and calmly consider
What thou hast to say against my royal rider.
Woolchurch. — Thy priest-ridden King turned desperate fighter
For the surplice, lawn sleeves, the cross, and the mitre ;
Till at last on the scaffold he was left in the lurch
By knaves, who cried up themselves for the church,
Archbishops and bishops, archdeacons and deans.
Charing. — Thy King will ne'er fight unless for his queans.
Woolchurch. — He that dies for ceremonies dies like a fool.
Charing. — The King on thy back is a lamentable tool.
And now the horses grow so scurrilous that we must leave them, quoting, however,
a couple of passages of the concluding part of their dialogue, which show the
poet could prophesy well as to the future, whatever might be the correctness of
his views as to the past. To the question of Woolchurch,
*' What is thy opinion of James Duke of York ?"
Charing answers,
" The same that the frogs had of Jupiter's stork.
With the Turk in his head, and the Pope in his heart,
Father Patrick's disciples will make England smart.
If he e'er be king, I know Britain's doom ; ' ^'.
We must all to a stake, or be converts to Rome.
Ah, Tudor ! Ah, Tudor ! of Stuarts enough —
None ever reigned like old Bess in the ruff !
* * j)t * * *
Woolchurch. — But canst thou devise when things will be mended ?
Charing. — When the reign of the line of the Stuarts is ended."
We have but to step to the back of the Banqueting House to find a memorial
that forms a striking commentary on the concluding line — the statue of James II.,
who did become king, who began the career the poet shadowed out, but who was
70 LONDON.
not permitted to complete it : the '-line of the Stuarts" was ''ended" instead, by
a second dethronement.
It is curious that none of the histories of London mention the origin of this
statue of James, which is by Gibbons, and not only valuable for its intrinsic
excellence, but as showing that the fame of Gibbons as a carver on wood is
founded on a solid base, — that he was, in short, a truly fine artist, in the higher
sense of the term ; and it is only to be regretted that he had not oftener worked
in the more durable material, on the larger subjects. The employer of Gibbons
in this work, and in a corresponding statue of Charles II., was, it appears, one
Tobias Rustat, Keeper of Hampton Court and Yeoman of the Robes, who took
it into his head to present the King and his brother with their statues ia brass,
at an expense of 500/. each. Hence the Charles now in Chelsea Hospital, the
James at Whitehall. Allan Cunningham says of the latter, "It has great ease
of attitude, and a certain serenity of air ;" but it has more than this — the cha-
racter of the man is as legibly inscribed on that brass as historian has ever written
it on paper. Think but for a moment of him who could first admit to an audi-
ence his own brother's son, the Duke of Monmouth, in the hope apparently of
learning something that might be useful to him, and then, unmoved by all the
unfortunate duke's passionate pleadings for life, dismiss him coolly to the
axe ; or of him who, when the infamous Jeffreys returned from the task of
hanging up by hundreds, with scarcely the semblance of a trial, the people who
had aided, or were supposed to have aided — it was all the same — Monmouth in
his ill-managed revolt, made the event memorable by a most emphatic eulogy on
the judge in the ' Gazette, ' accompanying the announcement of an equally
emphatic promotion to the Chancellorship. James was clearly wrong when some
months afterwards, in expressing his concern for Jeffreys' illness, brought on by
debauchery, he said such another man would not easily be found in England :
the force of sympathy should have told him he need not seek far. We have only
to think of these things, and then turn our glances upon the gloomy inexorable
features of Gibbons' statue to feel at once — Such was the man.
From the statue of James at Whitehall, and the recollections suggested by it,
one naturally turns towards Soho Square, and to the statue there, which, accord-
ing to a writer in the ' Gentleman's Magazine,' in 1790,* represents the Duke of
Monmouth; whilst Hughson, in his 'Walks through London,* says it is a statue
of James, and lastly, the Rev. Mr. Nightingale, in the 'Beauties of England
and Wales,' ascribes the honour to Charles II. The inscription on the base was
illegible when the last named gentleman noticed it, in 1815, and so remains
Monmouth, it appears, resided here, in a house, the site of which is now
occupied by Bateman's Buildings, and the Square, when first built, was called by
his name. This was subsequently — perhaps on Monmouth's disgrace — changed
to King's Square, and then again by his admirers to Soho Square, from the
watchword, Soho, used on the day of battle at Sedgemoor, where the Duke was
defeated. The name, Monmouth Square, however, appears to have been in
common use so late as 1790, when the writer in the ' Gentleman's Magazine,' to
whom we have alluded, thus designated it. As to the statue, it would, perhaps,
be impossible to find a more striking illustration of the folly of those who think
* Page 888.
. PUBLIC STATUES. 71
that memorials of brass or~stone can perpetuate the mcmor}^ of men whose merits
have not been of an equally durable character. The circumstances we have
mentioned show that the statue must necessarily have been the subject of much
animated discussion : scarcely a century and a half have elapsed since its erection,
and yet we know not to whom it belongs, whether to Charles, to his son, or to his
brother.
Odd coincidences occur with regard to the localities chosen for some of the
public statues of London ; we may in particular mention two, the statues of
I James's successor in St. James's Square, and of George I. in Leicester Square.
It was in the first of these places that James built a large house for his favourite
j mistress, Catherine Sedley, created by him Countess of Dorchester; and there —
' nowhere but there — does Chance, as if to show she is not always the blind goddess
' she seems, bring in later times the statue of him who so quietly handed James
down from the throne, and banished him from all the delights of his harem, from
all the pleasant anticipations of an occasional auto de fe, such as we were to have
enjoyed, according to Andrew Marvell, had the bounteous giver been spared
to us. The statue of the hooked-nose King and warrior, William, the hero of our
** glorious Revolution," stands on a pedestal in the middle of the circular sheet of
water that adorns the square, embowered in green foliage. The equestrian statue
of George L, in Leicester Square, which was formerly at Cannons, in Hertfordshire,
suggests equally awkward reminiscences. The first house built on the spot, then
known as Leicester-fields, was founded by one of the Sydneys, Earl of Leicester.
Here the unfortunate Queen of Bohemia, daughter of James I., lived and died; and
here subsequently, when George I. and his son quarrelled, the latter took up his
residence, collected about him the disaffected of all classes, and made Leicester
House notorious for political intrigue. A system of undisguised warfare between
father and son took place ; and it became but too evident to the nation at large,
horrible as the fact was, that they hated each other. The explanation is sufficiently
evident. The Prince's mother was that Sophia Dorothea of Zell, whose painful
and mysterious story has excited so much interest. On the assumed ground of her
infidelity with Count Konigsmark, who suddenly disappeared (it was afterwards
discovered that he had been assassinated), she was confined in the solitary castle
of Ahlen, on the river Aller, for thirty-two years, and there she died only a few
months before her husband George L The feelings of the Prince, who, it is well
known, tenderly loved his mother, and naturally believed her innocent, since
there were numbers of persons less interested who believed the same, may be
readily imagined. Once during her life he is said to have made a bold attempt
to obtain an interview with her, and for that purpose crossed the river on horse-
back ; but the jailor to whom she was entrusted, Baron Bulow, was immoveable.
On the other hand, George L, if he really believed in the story of his wife's guilt,
is not altogether without excuse, since the very relationship of his presumed son
was thereby questioned. As a conclusion to these notices of George I. and the
Square, it is to be observed that the unseemly spectacle presented by him and
his son, was repeated very nearly in the same manner when the latter succeeded the
throne, by him and his son Frederick, who died here. Pennant happily called the
house a *'pouting-place for princes/' Another equestrian statue of George I. stands
in Grosvenor Square, where it was erected in 1 726 by Sir R. Grosvenor, the founder
72 LONDOM. . i
of the square. Of that distinguished Roman warrior, George II. — for so the
sculptor by his costume represents him — we have a statue in Golden Square,
which, though unnoticed hitherto in any of the topographical works on London,
has an entertaining bit of gossip attached to it. This, like the statue of
George I., was formerly at Cannons, the seat of the Duke of Chandos, and
formed one of a series. During the sale that took place, a gentleman, an
acquaintance of the auctioneer, came in, and, catching his eye, nodded in token
of friendly remembrance. " Thank you. Sir," was the immediate comment —
down went the hammer — " The statue of that excellent monarch is yours."
What could the possessor do with such an immense piece of sculpture but give
it to the public ?
■: But though we have a statue of George II., one of the great events of his
reign — the endeavours made by the young Pretender to restore the Stuart line —
is much more forcibly impressed upon us, in gazing on the statue of that king's
brother, the Duke of Cumberland, in Cavendish Square : which was erected, as
the inscription informs us, by Lieutenant General Strode, in memory of "his
private kindness; in honour of his public virtue," in 1777. The private kindness
we are bound to believe, and gratitude is at all times an admirable quality ; but
General Strode should have made somewhat surer about the public virtue, before
he called upon the public to participate in his own feelings of admiration. Popu-
lar nicknames have generally much truth wrapped up in them, and the Duke
of Cumberland's is by no means an exception. " The Butcher" was the title
applied to him in his own day, and it is likely to outlive the statue which, in
disregard to the best feelings of human nature, has been set up. Men may
differ as to the value of the Duke's services in overthrowing the rebels at Cul-
loden, or they may even agree that they were most valuable ; but the horrors of
the wanton cruelties that followed must be universal. The atrocities committed
by him in the Highlands, in pursuance of his scheme of a " little blood-
letting," are sickening to contemplate. The men were hunted like wild beasts,
not to conquer but to exterminate ; the women were subjected to outrages com-
pared with which death were light ; children were shot, mangled, or precipitated
over the sides of the steep rocks in their parents' eye-sight ; whilst the houses of
the wretched people were so completely plundered and destroyed that it became
a common spectacle to behold persons of all ages, frantic with hunger, actually
following the army which had wrought all their ruin and misery, to beg for the
mere offal of their own cattle. When that purification of our public statues,
which there is so much reason to hope for, shall take place, and none be left
standing that do not fulfil the conditions which Morality and Art are alike inter-
ested in demanding from the men whose effigies are to adorn our high places,
Ave trust one exception may be made — the Duke of Cumberland's statue ; let not
that be destroyed ; keep it, if it be but to inscribe on it, for the good of the
people, the people's own short summary of his character, and thus leave it to
posterity. Who shall say what suffering and disgrace may not be spared in
future wars, if wars there must be, by so decisive and permanent an expression of
a sound public feeling ?
There is little to say in praise of the sculpture of the statues belonging to this
period— the early part of the eighteenth century. Not that people were altogether
PUBLIC STATUES.
73
different on the subject. One had on]y to walk through the upper end of Pic-
adilly to see that there was a positive rage for sculpture, such as it was. That
treet, or road, as it might then be called, was lined with the shops of statuaries,
inishing at Hyde Park Corner with a regular depot for the sale of shepherds and
hepherdesses, and copies from the antique, in lead, and all nicely painted. We
an guess as to the quality of the Arcadian innocents ; and as to the copies from
he antique, Ralph, writing in 1731, says, ''they are so monstrously wretched
hat one can hardly guess at their originals." The statue of George I., in
prrosvenor Square, was by Van Nost, it is said; but Malcolm speaks of one
- IVancost, as modelling a statue of the same monarch, from that of Charles I. at
IJharing Cross, in 1721, and he, it appears, was of *' Hyde Park Corner;" so,
n all probability, the Grosvenor Square statue was one of the productions of the
lepot. About this time a fresh importation of foreign artists took place, and
mce more works of merit appeared in our public places ; and let us not contemn
i:he Piccadilly sculpture shops : it was at one of them, belonging to Henry
Dheere, that the order was given for a statue of Handel, for Vauxhall Gardens,
md executed by a journeyman ; that journeyman was Roubiliac, who at once rose
to fame. Scheemakers and Rysbrack appeared in England about the same time ;
to the last we owe the statue of Sir Hans Sloane, in the gardens of the Apothe-
caries' Company, Chelsea.
[Sir Ilatis Slotiuii.
And it is quite refreshing to pause a moment in the contemplation of the
character of the man represented ; active to save rather than destroy, far
beyond even the usual limits of his benevolent profession — that of a physi-
cian,— more ambitious of the power of doing good than of achieving wealth
and rank which, nevertheless, he did achieve, in order that they too might
74 ' LONDON.
be useful to the same end, Sir Hans Sloane's long and well-spent life entitles his
memory to national respect and honour. But why do we allude to his general
character ? We need not leave these gardens for an evidence of what Sir Hans
Sloane was. When the College of Physicians formed the plan for the establish-
ment of a dispensar}'^ to provide medical attendance and medicines gratuitously
to the poor, Sloane was one of the most energetic of its supporters. The apothe-
caries opposed the scheme with great heat and violence, and a tremendous paper-
war broke out, which, whilst it amused the town mightily, caused much ill-will
between the members of the respective parties. Sloane was, of course, a favourite
mark of attack, both from his position and his activity. Chance gave him an
opportunity of exhibiting his resentment of the treatment he had experienced.
In 1720 he purchased his Chelsea estate, of which the garden, then in the occu-i
pation of the Apothecaries' Company, formed a part. Of course, it was not to be
expected he was going to keep such tenants ; so he immediately gave them — the
freehold. The Company honoured itself as well as its benefactor by erecting this
statue. No fear that such a memorial will ever be met by the questioning glance,
so full of meaning, and which, put into words, says — Why art thou ? It were a
pretty problem for the reader to solve — How many of our other metropolitan
statues are there of which the same may be predicated ?
Up to the commencement of the reign of George III. but one native artist,
Gibbons, had appeared in modern times in England whose works are now dis-
tinguished for their excellence : Cibber, the author of the admirable figures at
Bethlehem Hospital, Ave need hardly remind our readers, was a foreigner ; but
the faint promise held out, even by the advent of that one, was to be nobly realised
a century later ; then Bacon, Banks, and Flaxman successively appeared, each
raising higher than it had be<3n before his appearance the reputation of the
growing school of English sculpture. We have here to do with the first only,
Bacon, the author of the pile in the court of Somerset House, embodying in the
lower stage a recumbent figure of Thames, and in the upper, a statue of George
III. One cannot but look with more than ordinary curiosity upon such a work,
from the remembrance of Bacon's memorable offer to the Government to under-
take all the national monuments at a certain per centage below the parliamentary!
price. " Spirit of Phidias," exclaimed Fuseli, when he heard of it, " Bacon is to
do all the stone-work for the navy and army; they ought also to give him the
contract for hams and pork." As to the figure of Thames, the sculptor certainly
thought well of it himself, for he sent it to the Academy exhibition; but Allan
Cunningham calls it "a cumbrous effort of skill," and justifies, he says, the
question of the queen, *' Why did you make so frightful a figure ?" — an awkward
question for a painter's nerves to come from such a quarter ; but the courtiers
about Her Majesty might have taken a lesson from the adroitness of Bacon, in
his answer : " Art," said he, lowly bowing, •' cannot always effect what is ever
within the reach of nature — the union of beauty and majesty." In another point
of view some interest attaches to this group as a proof of the artist's skill in
working in a difficult material. "Then, and long after," observes Bacon's biogra-
pher, in a pleasant and instructive passage, " an air of secresy and mystery was
observed concerning the art of casting in metal ; and a process at once simple
and easy was taught to be regarded as something magical. Of the materials
PUBLIC STATUES. 75
hich composed the external and internal mould, — the mode of rendering them
Lfe for receiving the liquid burning metal, — the melting of the copper, — the
luantities of alloy, and the proper degree of heat,— the working artists spoke a
lysterious language, resembling in no small degree those conversations on
Llchymy so happily ridiculed by Ben Jonson : —
" Let me see
How is the Moon now ? eight, nine, ten days hence
He will be silver potato ; then three days
Before he citronize ; some fifteen days
The magisterium will be perfected, —
And then we 've finished."
"That Bacon maintained the secrets of the profession there can be little doubt,
ince the men who wrought his marble were not permitted to acquaint themselves
!/ith the arrangements of the foundry. His practice was to cast the figure in
aany pieces, and then to unite them into an entire whole by the process of
lurning or fusing the parts together. This plan had its advantages ; it required
mall moulds, which were easily dried and readily handled, — small meltings, too,
if metal, — nor was failure attended with the destruction of the entire mould of
he figure. But it had this disadvantage : by the fusing together of many small
)ieces the just proportions of the whole were apt to be injured, and the figure
iable to display an imperfect symmetry compared to a statue cast in one or two
)arts. The veil has been raised a little of late from the mystery of bronze- casting,
n the splendid foundries of Chantrey and Westmacott colossal statues, twelve
cot high, are cast at a couple of heats, and the whole process is exhibited to any
)ne whom curiosity or chance may happen to conduct to the artist's studio when
he moulds are ready and the metal melted."*
It might be supposed that one of the two accomplished sculptors here referred
0, Westmacott, had really obtained a commission of the extensive character
.lought by Bacon^ so large is his proportion of the statues erected in the present
i;entury. Whilst the other sculptors whose talents have been in requisition, have,
IS yet at least, given us each but a solitary specimen of their skill, as Chantrey
in the colossal bronze statue of William Pitt, in Hanover Square, one of the
lioblest of our public statues, erected in 1831 ; Wyatt, in the bronze equestrian
itatue of George HI., erected in Pall Mall, East, in 1836; Gahagan, in the
Duke of Kent's statue, also in bronze at the top of Portland Place, erected by
public subscription as a tribute to his public and private virtues; and Mr.
plarke, of Birmingham, in the bronze-seated figure of Major Cartwright, in
Burton Crescent, where the venerable reformer long resided ; the sculptor in
jijuestion alone has given us more than all his brother artists put together. Be-
Tore we notice these, we must add a few words on the statue just mentioned of
bim who, according to Canning, was '* the old heart in London from which the
veins of sedition in the country were supplied." The honest and indefatigable
Major Cartwright, whose zeal for what he believed to be the public good must
be honoured even by those who disapprove of the means by which he pursued it,
3an afford even to have the attack recorded without the slightest apprehension
JDf injury to his memory. A striking evidence of the purity of his intentions
* Cunningliara, * Life of Bacon,' p. 241.
76
LONDON.
[Pitt's Slalup, IlaiiovcT Square.]
was given on his being brought up for judgment, in 1821, on the verdict o
guilty of sedition, &c., when ''the learned judge spoke with so much respect ol
the character and motives of Major Cartwright that it was afterwards humour-
ously remarked by that gentleman that he thought he was going to offer him a
reward instead of inflicting a fine."*
Westmacott's public statues, taking them in the order of their execution, are
those of the Duke of Bedford, Fox, the Achilles or Wellington at Hyde Parle
Corner, the statue of the Duke of York on the pillar overlooking St. Jame
Park from Carlton Terrace, and Canning's statue in New Palace Yard. The
Bedford and Fox statues are noble works, and most happily situated, facing each
other ; the one on the south side of Russell Square, the other on the north side
of Bloomsbury Square, the opening of Bedford Place forming a fine avenue, as il
were, between them. The Duke rests one arm on a plough, whilst the hand oi
the other grasps the gift of Ceres ; and the characteristics thus expressed are con-
tinued and still further developed by the children, representative of the seasons
at the four corners, and by the interesting bas-reliefs that adorn two of the sides
* Life, by bis niece, F. C. Cartwright, vol. ii. p. 214.
PUBLIC STATUES.
77
n one we see preparations making for the dinner of the rustic labourer, his wife
i.s busy on her knees, a youth is blowing the horn, and two countrymen and a
team of oxen complete the group ; in the other the business of reaping and
gleaning is shadowed forth, one of the figures, a young woman in the centre, of
graceful form and sweet features, is evidently the village belle. The statue
has only this inscription : Francis, Duke of Bedford, erected 1809. It is of
bronze, and about twenty-seven feet in height. The statue of Fox repre-
sents the statesman seated, arrayed in a consular robe, and full of dignity.
The likeness is said to be " perfect." This inscription, also, is noticeable for its
simplicity—'* Charles James Fox. Erected MDCCCXVI." Thus should it
always be ! When a people are not sufficiently acquainted with the merits of its
public men, to appreciate the honour done them in the erection of public statues,
by all means let us wait till they are. Greater advantages even than the waiters
anticipate would flow, not unfrequently, from such a rule. ''It was a strange
piece of tyranny," observes a writer in the ' Quarterly Review,'* in allusion to
[Statue of Major Cartwriglit in Burton Crescent.]
the Achilles, "to press it into our service; but in our service it cannot abide;
remove the inscription, and the Greek is a Greek again." Although the time
was that one could not take up a newspaper but to read attacks or defences of
this "best abused" of statues, or pass a print-shop without a laugh at some new
caricature of the ladies' work, and when, of course, the whole subject became
most wearisomely familiar, it may be useful now to some of our readers to have
it stated that it is copied from one of two splendid specimens of ancient art,
standing in front of the Papal palace at Rome. Each consists of a figure in the
* Vol. xxxlv. I). 131*
78 LONDON. I
act of reining a fiery steed: and the two have been supposed to represent Castor!
and Pollux. They are attributed to no less an artist than Phidias. As to their i
history, it is believed that they were conveyed from Alexandria by Constantine
the Great, to adorn his baths in Rome, among^the ruins of which they were found.
To add to the doubts that envelope the whole subject, the horses were discovered
some distance from the human figures, and may therefore never have belonged
to them. It was certainly a daring idea to take one of these figures and stamp it
decidedly Achilles, which, however, it may in reality be, though the presumption
is sadly against it ; and then, b}^ a kind of mental process, which every one of
course was expected to perform for himself, to transform Achilles into Wellington.
But the event itself was unique, the subscription of the ladies of England for a
statue to a great warrior ; and we suppose it was therefore deemed advisable to
commemorate it in a equally unique manner. The inscription runs thus, *' To
Arthur, Duke of Wellington, and his brave companions in arms, this statue of
Achilles, cast from cannon taken in the battles of Salamanca, Vittoria, Toulouse,
and Waterloo, is inscribed by their countrywomen." The cannon here referred
to consisted of twelve 24-pounders. The statue is about eighteen feet high, on a
basement of granite, of about the same elevation. It was placed on the latter
on the anniversary day of the battle of Waterloo^ in 1822 ; and the records of the
period tell us of a curious coincidence that marked the occasion. A writer in the
' Gentleman's Magazine,' observes, " In ancient Greece the honoured victors of
the Olympic games, on returning crowned to their native cities, were not per-
mitted to enter them by the common way and gate ; to distinguish them above
all their co-patriots, a breach ^was made in the wall, by which they were borne
home in triumph. By one of those accidents which seem to be fate, the Ladies'
statue to the Duke of Wellington, when brought to its destination, was found to
be too mighty for the gates by which it should have entered, and it became neces-
sary to breach the wall for the admission of the trophy." The statue of Canning and
the Duke of York column require no particular mention ; the former was set up in
its place opposite New Palace Yard, in 1832 ; and the latter completed in 1836.
This consists of a colossal bronze statue of the " Soldier's friend," on the top of
one of the ugliest columns perhaps that the wit of sculptor ever yet devised, of
pale red granite, 1 50 feet high. The best thing about the whole is the view from
the summit : what the Monument is for the east the Duke of York's pillar forms
for the west of London.
Such are the public statues of London. What does the reader think of them ?
Let us recount and classify the whole. Omitting works attached to buildings
rather for the purposes of architectural ornament than for anything else, such, for
instance, as the Temple Bar statues, of James and his Queen, and Charles I. and II.,
but including the Nelson Testimonial, now in progress, and the two Wellington
Memorials, also unfinished, of Chantrey and Wyatt, there are thirteen kings and
queens, namely,— Elizabeth, formerly at Ludgate, now in front of St. Dunstan's
church, Charles I., Charles II.,* James II., William III., three Annes— one before
St. Paul's, one in Queen Square, Westminster, and one in Queen Square, Guildford
* The monument in Soho Square ; which it is most probable was erected, like several others of the kingly statues,
to mark the era of the buildings around, and as Soho Square was begun in the reign of Charles II., the statue is
most likely to be his.
PUBLIC STATUES.
79
[Statueof George Canning.]
treet; two of the 1st George, one of the 2nd, and two of the 3rd George;
hvee brothers of kings, Cumberland, Kent, and York ; four warriors, namely, three
Wellingtons and one Nelson ; one nobleman, the Duke of Bedford ; three states-
men. Fox, Pitt, and Canning; one parliamentary reformer, Cartwright; one
•ublic benefactor, Sloane ; and one work of art, the admirable figure of the
loor, shown on our last page, which stands in the gardens of Clement's Inn. Of
Gets we have — none ; philosophers — none ; patriots in the highest sense of
he term — none ; moralists — none ; distinguished men of science — none ; — but,
1 short, the list is ended. Again we ask, what does the reader think of it ? But
he question is unnecessary, for even churchwardens are growing ashamed of such
gallery of England's Worthies. We see by the newspapers lately, that a
ablet has been affixed to the external wall of AUhallows Church, Bread Street,
^heapside, commemorating the birth of Milton in the parish ; and though the
ablet is not a statue, we are content to think its promoters wish it were, and to
gree with them. At all events, a tablet is something. A more important evi-
dence of the growth of a better feeling on this subject, is the Premier's letter to
he Secretary of the Fine Arts Commission, just published, from which it appears,
hat, at last, men of eminent civil, literary, or scientific services are likely to be
dmitted into a participation of the public honours lavished hitherto upon kings,
.nd the eminent of t^e sword or of the forum almost exclusively. Sir Robert
80
LONDON.
Peel has, by her Majesty's command, empowered the Commissioners not only t
consider of an appropriate site for such purpose in connection with the NeV
Houses of Parliament^ but also to consider the principles generally that shouL
govern the selection of the names to be so honoured. A knotty point, but on(
that should be determined not only there, but everywhere else before anothe
public statue is erected, to show alike by those we omit, and those we include
how ludicrously we estimate in our sculptures the respective greatness and valu
of our public men.
[Statue of the Mcor in Clement's luu.j
[Cold Ilaibcur.]
CXXXI.— COLLEGE OF ARMS.
" How have the mighty fallen!" may well be the exclamation of any one who
has read of the respect paid to, and the authority exercised by the heralds of the
olden times, and contrasts them with the perfect indifference with which those of
the present day are looked upon, and the impunity with which their privileges
are suppressed or violated. Too many of the modern members of the College of
Arms might have taken as their motto the celebrated one of the House of
Courtenay, '* Ubi lapsus ? Quid feci?" and in the answer to the second ques-
tion might perhaps be found the cause of the first. It might certainly be said
that they had done nothing to sustain themselves or their science in the opinion
of the world, and that, consequently, both had fallen in public estimation, and a
herald become merely a tolerated appendage of empty show, instead of a useful
and respected oflficer of state, exercising a high and wholesome authority, and
professing a science, which, however it may be ridiculed or perverted, will never
fail to interest and instruct those who pursue it with properly directed intelli-
gence. It is lamentable, also, to reflect that neither talent nor character were
always considered indispensable qualifications for the attainment of the highest
VOL. VI. G
82 LONDON.
i
I
offices in the College of Arms; that the only charges some of the principal memj
bers studied were those they should make to their clients ; and that, provided!
they bore Or and Argent enough in their purses proper, they cared little for the|
largest blot in their family escutcheons — putting metal upon metal, in defiance of
all English heraldic legislation ; that — |
*' But this eternal blazon must not be f
To ears of flesh and blood."
Let us trust that those times have past. The College has now a Garter King of
Arms, whose acquirements and conduct are such as must entitle him to the
respect of all parties, and whose creation, although '' per saltum," is acknow-
ledged to have been as long deserved as it was from circumstances * immediately
necessary.
To Richard Champneys, Gloucester King of Arms, the English heralds are
indebted for their charter of incorporation. At his instance, Richard III., by
letters patent, dated March 2nd, 1483 (the first year of his reign), directed the
incorporation of heralds, assigning for their habitation *' one messuage with the
appurtenances, in London, in the parish of All Saints, called Pulteney's Inn, or
Cold Harbour, to the use of twelve, the most principal and approved of them for
the time being, for ever, without compte or any other thing thereof to us or to our
heirs, to be given or paid."
This *' messuage" received the name of Poulteney's Inn from Sir John Poulte-
ney, who had been four times Lord Mayor of London, and who purclmsed and
dwelt in it. He gave it to Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford and Essex.
The Earl of Arundel became possessed of it by marrying De Bohun's niece. In
the year 1397, it belonged to John Holland, Duke of Exeter and Earl of Hun-
tingdon, who therein magnificently feasted his half-brother, Richard IL In the
next year it passed to Edmond Langley, Earl of Cambridge, from whom it came
to the crown. Henry IV., by his patent, dated March 18, 1410, granted it to his
son Henry, Prince of Wales. Henry VI., in his 22nd year, conveyed it to John
Holland, Duke of Exeter, whose son, Henr}^, being a Lancasterian, lost it by
attainture of Parliament. Edward IV. kept it in his own hands ; and at Richard
III.'s accession, it belonged to the crown, and, according to Stowe, was a '* right
fayre and stately house," when Richard gave it to Sir John Wroth or Wrythe,
or Wriothesly, Garter King of Arms^ in trust for the residence and assembling
of heralds ; and the Collefje of Arms considering: him as their founder, althouirh
Richard Champneys had perhaps a fairer claim to the title, adopted, with ii
change of colours. Sir John's armorial bearings for their official seal. King
Henry VII., who invidiously subverted the establishments of his predecessors
dispossessed the heralds of their property in Cold Harbour. They removed to the
Hospital of our J^ady of Roncival, or Rounceval, at Charing Cross, where now
stands Northumberland House. The heralds having no claim to it, they were onl}
there upon sufferance of the crown ; and in Edward VI. 's reiirn their revenue.^
were so much diminished, that they petitioned for and obtained exemption fron
taxes. Soon afterwards, Derby or Stanley House, which had been first erected b}
* The advanced ages of the worthy Claiencieux and Norroy Kings of Arms, either of whom if made Garte
must liavc acted by deputy. . ,
COLLEGE OF ARMS.
83
Thomas Stanley, second Earl of Derby of that name, on St. Benets Hill, having
passed into the hands of Sir Richard Sackville by virtue of mortgage, was sold
by him to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk, Earl Marshal. He instantly transferred
it to the crown, and it was re-granted, by charter of Philip and Mary, to Sir
Gilbert Dethick, Garter, and his associates in office, July 18th, 1555. In the
Great Fire of London, 1666, Derby House was destroyed, and the present build-
ing was erected on the old site after the design of Sir Christopher Wren, by the
munificence of the nobility, assisted by the members of the College, particularly
William Dugdale, at that time Norroy King of Arms, who built the north-west
corner of the College at his own expense. At the moment we write, the College
of Arms is undergoing thorough repairs, and a fire-proofroom is building behind
the old library, for the better preservation of the more valuable books and MSS.
Amongst the most interesting curiosities in the library are, the Warwick Roll, a
series of figures of all the Earls of Warwick from the Conquest to the reign of
Richard III., executed by Rous, the celebrated antiquary of Warwick, at the
close of the fifteenth century, and a Tournament Roll of Henry VIII.'s time, in
which that monarch is depicted in regal state, with all the " pomp, pride, and
circumstance of glorious (mimic) war." A sword and dagger, said to have
belonged to the unfortunate James, King of Scotland, who fell at Flodden Field,
are also in the possession of the Officers of Arms; a legitimate trophy of the
illustrious House of Howard, whose Bend Argent received the honourable
augmentation of the Scottish Lion, in testimony of the prowess displayed by the
i<rallant Surrey, who commanded the English forces on that memorable occasion.
There is nothing worthy of much remark in the edifice itself, which is composed
of brick, and has rather a gloomy appearance.
[Heralds' CoUe-e.]
g2
84 LONDON.
Passing through the gateway upon St. Benet's Hill, the hollow arch of whichj
is esteemed a curiosity, you find yourself in a square paved court-yard, on the
north side of which is the principal entrance, approached by a flight of stone!
steps, and opening directly into the Grand Hall, in which the Court of Chivalry!
was formerly held. On the right hand is the old library, from which a door opens
into the new fire-proof room aforesaid. On the left, a broad staircase conducts
you to the apartments of several of the Officers of Arms. In the Grand Hall
above-mentioned, and facing the entrance, is the judicial seat of the Earl Marshal,
surrounded by a ballustrade : but *' the chair is empty, and the sword unswayed."
The Court of Chivalry is numbered amongst the things that were, and '' le nou-l
veau riche" may now sport his carriage emblazoned all over with the bearings!
of half the noble families of England, without the fear of the Earl Marshal beforei
his eyes, or of the degrading process of having his unjustly assumed lions or!
wyverns publicly painted out by some indignant herald. On the south side oi!
the quadrangle is a paved terrace, on the wall of which are seen two escutcheons,
one bearing the arms (and legs) of Man, and the other the Eagle's claw, both,
ensigns of the House of Stanley. They have been supposed to be relics of the|
original mansion : but are not ancient, and have been put up merely to mark thel
site of Old Derby House.
Of the practice of the Curia Militaris, or Court of the Earl Marshal, in the
early centuries, no satisfactory documents have reached us : '' though it may be
presumed," says Dallaway, '' that precedents of it were followed as scrupulously
as the memory of man or oral tradition could warrant."
It was usually held within the verge of the Koyal Court by the High Con-
stable and Earl Marshal, who called to their assistance as many of their peers as
they thought expedient ; and the processes were conducted by the heralds, doctors
in civic law, who were assessors by commission, and their inferior officers. Ap-
peals were sometimes made to the Court of King's Bench, which, in course oi
time, were the cause of its virtual, though not of its actual, abolition. Henry V,
gave the title of Garter King of Arms to William Bruges or Brydges, and witli
it the precedence of all others ; and since that period Garter has been always;
principal officer of arms. In 1419 the same sovereign issued an edict, directed
to the sheriff* of each county, to summon all persons bearing arms to prove and
establish their right to them. Many claims examined in consequence, of this
inquiry were referred to heralds as commissioners ; but the first regular chapter
held by them in a collegiate capacity is said to have been at the siege of Rouen
in 1420. The outlines of a code of laws and observances were then formed and
approved of, and this being the first general notification of the institute of theii
appointment and legislation as officers of the king, not merely personal servants
but public functionaries, it has been held by collectors of heraldic documents as
a most valuable record. On their ultimate incorporation by royal charter, in the
reign of Richard III., they began with more authority and effect to execute then
office, dividing England into two districts as north and south of Trent. Tc
Clarencieux King of Arms was assigned the jurisdiction of the southern pro-
vinces, and to Norroy (or North King) those of the North. Over all presided
Garter principal King of Arms. The regular wages or salaries of the members
of the College were settled as follows : —
COLLEGE OF ARMS. 85
Garter
Clarencieux
Norroy .
Every Herald
Every Pursuivant
401. per annum.
201.
201.
20 marks ■
10/. " -
Their fees, as early as the reign of Richard II., appear to have been consider-
,ble, viz. 100/. on the coronation of the king, and 100 marks on that of the queen.
I^t the displaying of the king's banner in any camp or host of men, the officers
[present received 100 marks. At the displaying of a duke's, 20/., and so down-
ards. On the king's marriage, 50/., " with the gift of the king's and queen's
ppermost garments." At the birth of the king's eldest son, 100 marks, and 20/.
t the birth of the younger children. Then at Christmas, on New Year's Day
land Twelfth Day, at Easter, on St. George's Day, at Pentecost, and on Allhal-
lows Day, the king's largess was 51. or 6/., the queen's as many marks, and so
Ithe princes and nobles according to their rank. There were also additional fees
land allowances when the heralds went out of the country on any mission, or were
Ipresent at any battle with the king, or at the knighting of any man-at-arms, or
nobleman, when they received a largess in proportion to the rank of the
Inew-made knight ; the king's eldest son giving 40/., and the younger sons 20
marks.
That thus a sufficient revenue might be obtained to support the respect due to
the immediate servants of the crown and the nobility, these demands were scru-
pulously complied with, and the heralds were empowered to inflict a censure
upon any who refused to accede to the customs and observances appointed upon
such occasions. Of such amount were their emoluments in the early reigns that
William Bruges, Garter King of Arms temp. Henry V., could receive the Em-
peror Sigismond at his house in Kentish Town, and entertain him sumptuously ;
and the other heralds kept proportionate state, and were thought worthy of
titular honours ; even the nuncii prosecutores, or pursuivants, had the privilege
of becoming knights.
In the sixteenth century it appears that many of the fees had been abolished
or evaded, for Francis Thynne, Lancaster Herald, 1605, in his ^ Discourse on
the Duty and Office of a Herald of Arms,' observes that '' if heralds might have
fees of every one which gave them fees in times past, they might live in reason-
able sort, and keep their estate answerable to their places : but now (whether it
be our own default, or the overmuch parsimony of others, or faults of the
heavens, since by their revolutions things decay when they have been at the
highest, I know not) the heralds are not esteemed; every one withdraweth
his favour from them, and denyeth the accustomed duties belonging unto
them."
One of the most useful employments of the heralds was the registering or
recording of the gentry allowed to bear arms throughout the kingdom. '' A
period must arrive," says Dallaway, " when the immediate inheritors of honours
and estates being no more, collateral claimants have to be sought, according to
the tenures and injunctions of the original possession. In the lapse of years and
the confusion of events such relations become obscure ; and, without a regular
86 LONDON.
and impartial record, where could satisfactory proof be obtained ? An attentioi
therefore to genealogical inquiries of such obvious utility was the chief employ!
ment of the heralds after their incorporation ; and though they found precedent:!
and authorities of their own privileges very serviceable to themselves, the advan j
tages to be derived from their institution wei^ evidently those which result fronl
the confidence with which the public resorted to their archives and were deter
mined by their reports." That such investigations might be as general anc
extensive as possible, a visitation of each county was decreed by the Earl Mar
shal, and confirmed by a Avarrant under the privy seal, and a plan was formed b}
which the intention might be best answered. The most ancient visitation o
which any account is recorded is one made by Norroy King of Arms temp. Henr}!
IV., A. D. 1412, and preserved in the Harleian Lib., 66 C. Others are said tc
have been made in the reigns of Edward IV. and Henry VII. ; but in 1528
commission was granted, and executed by Thomas Benoilt, Clarencieux, for the
counties of Gloucester, Worcester, Oxford, Wilts, Berks, and Staflford ; and froir
that period visitations were regularly made every twenty-five or thirty years
and the gentry were so well convinced of the advantage of them that they gave
every encouragement to the plan by liberal communications. By these visita
tions many of mean origin, possessed of considerable property, were brought intc
notice, and procured entries of themselves as the founders of modern famiUes
Of those who were delegated to the exercise of this function the most celebrated
are "the learned Camden," Elias Ashmole, Sir Edward Byshe, William Dugdale
Augustus Vincent, and Robert Glover; and whoever compares these accumulated
labours with each other will find a wide difference in the ability and industr^l
of the several compilers. Of the essential consequence of incorruptible truth in
the detail of genealogies thus compiled and registered, as supported by the
strongest evidence, the final decision which was given by them in all cases ol
claims either to hereditary honours or property sufldciently evinces. The heralds
were at that period invested with authority equivalent to the duty in which theyj
were engaged, and were assisted in the performance of it by general consent, not
only of the higher ranks, but of those who were eager to avail themselves ol
armorial distinctions, which, as the first symptom of the decline of chivalry, were,
as early as the reign of Henry VIII., permitted to be purchased by men oi
sudden wealth and civil occupation ; witness " an order made by Charles Bran-,
don, Duke of Suffolk, Earl Marshal of England, what all degrees shall pay for
the grants of new arms," in which it is ordained that " temporall men which be
of good and honest reputacion, able to mayntayne the state of a gentleman,"
shall have arms granted to them upon the payment of certain fees therein set
down, varying, according to their possessions, from 6^. 13.y. 6o?. to bl.
The Officers of Arms appear to have availed themselves, as far as possible, ol
the fund of genealogical knowledge which had been collected in various monas-
teries, when these records were dispersed at the dissolution. " It is probable,"
says Dallaway, " that by them the ordinance of parochial registers was suggested
to Cromwell, Lord Essex, the Vicar General, who, in 1536, caused his mandate
to be circulated for that purpose ;" and there can be little doubt that, but for
the disinclination of government to throw the patronage into the hands of an
COLLEGE OF ARMS. 87
independent hereditary officer like the Earl Marshal, the general registration of
births and deaths would have had its head-quarters on St. Benets Hill, instead
of in Somerset House. The heralds had a natural right to be the workers of
and gainers by this useful institution, as the genealogists of the empire ; and,
considering the way in which their privileges and emoluments have been lately
curtailed, such an arrangement would have been a mere act of justice towards
i them. In 1555 a commission of visitation was directed to Thomas Hawley,
Clarencieux, *^ to correct all false crests, arms, and cognizances ; to take notice of
descents ; and to reform all such as were disobedient to orders for funerals, set
forth by King Henry VII., whereby it is also provided, that all such as should
disobey the same, should answer thereunto upon lawful monition to him or them,
given before the High Marshal of England ;" and in the fifth and sixth of Philip
and Mary, another commission, with the same authority, was delegated to William
Harvey, Hawley's successor, who was empowered to levy fines against delinquents
at his will and pleasure. The jurisdiction of the Earl Marshal's Court was very
generally allowed at this period; for, in 1566, a pursuivant having been ar-
rested, an order of Privy Council was sent to the Lord Mayor, asserting the pre-
rogative of that Court, to which alone its own officers were amenable. Many
suits respecting the legal assumption of arms were argued before the Earl
Marshal, or his Commissioners ; but the more frequent causes were the prosecu-
tions of those who usurped the privileges, and received the fees of heralds at
funerals, by providing and marshalling achievements without their authority.
Several abuses having arisen in the practice of the Court, and immunities lain
dormant, a body of statutes and ordinances was published by Thomas, Duke of
Norfolk, Earl Marshal, dated July 18th, 1568, by which regulations might be
enforced; but about the year 1620, the validity of the Earl Marshal's authority
was very severely questioned by repeated appeals to the Courts of King's Bench
and Chancery. Ralph Brooke, or Brooksmouth, York Herald at this period,
had frequent controversies with the Kings of Arms respecting the partition of
fees, and the ground of his suit having been dismissed his own Court as vexatious
and nugatory, and he himself being suspended for contumacy, he strove to re-
possess himself by common law. In consequence of these proceedings the Earl
Marshal laid the particulars of his claim before the Privy Council and other
Peers, who assembled for that purpose in the Star Chamber, on the 11th of
July, 1622. Brooke contended that no Court of Chivalry could be legally held
but by the High Constable of England, which office, since the death of Edward
Stafford, Duke of Buckingham, was in abeyance. The Council, however, after a
long investigation, decided in favour of the Earl Marshal, as having been an-
ciently vested with equal authority, and as being the supreme of that Court in
the absence or non-existence of the High Constable. With this decision the
King was so well pleased, that he issued a Commission under the Great Seal,
directed to Thomas, Earl of Arundel and Surrey, by which all former privileges
were absolutely renewed and confirmed, and the peculiar jurisdiction of his Court
was duly recognised and published. The College of Arms then consisted of
thirteen regular officers, being reduced to that number, as they continue to the
present day.
88
LONDON.
Kings.
Garter, Principal.
Clarencieux.
Norroy.
Pursuivafits.
Rouge Croix.
Blue Mantle.
Portcullis.
Rouge Dragon.
Heralds.
Lancaster.
Somerset.
Richmond. ^
Win3sor.
York.
Chester.
These now hold their places by patent under the Great Seal, by appointment
of the Earl Marshal. The order of their succession is solely at his disposal, and
the last-appointed officer takes the title but not the rank of his predecessor.*
King Charles I., having, whilst Duke of York, imbibed much of the romantic and
martial spirit which was so conspicuous in his brother Prince Henry, continued,
after his accession to the throne, to show the most marked respect to the heralds
individually, and to encourage the esteem in which the College of Arms was then
held by the superior ranks in society ; and the unshaken loyalty which was upon
every emergency displayed by the Officers of Arms, in gratitude for that royal
patronage, continued unimpaired, even after his worst fortunes had deprived the
sovereign of all power to afford them support, and they were consequently ejected
from their posts, and forced to retire from public life. In 1642 Charles was
driven to Oxford, as an asylum from the impending storm. Many of the attendant
nobility accepted of academic honours at that time ; and it affords very high testi-
mony of the respectability of heralds in England, that they were equally admitted
to the first distinctions which the University could bestow. William Dugdale,
Rouge Croix Pursuivant, and Edmund Walker, Chester Herald, were created
Masters of Arts ; and Sir William le Neve, Clarencieux King of Arms, was ad-
mitted to the dignity of Doctor of Laws. In 1643, we find George Owen, York
Herald, John Philipot, Somerset Herald, and Sir John Borrough, Garter King
of Arms, made^Doctors of Laws ; and in 1644, Sir Henry St. George, Garter
King of Arms also made LL.D.
With whatever contempt Cromwell before he became Protector had treated
royalty, and spurned at every ceremony and ensign by which it was denoted, no
sooner was he invested with the power than he assumed the pageantry of a king.
The national crosses were certainly substituted for the lions, the fleurs de lys, and
the harp, but the paternal bearing of Cromwell was invariably placed in the centre,
both upon his standards and his coins. His Peers of Parliament were created
by patent, in the margin of which, amongst other ornaments, are a portrait of
him in royal robes, and his paternal escutcheon, with many quarterings; and both
at his investiture and his funeral ; Byshe and Riley, appointed by him Garter and
Norroy, officiated according to the ancient ceremonial, and appear to have been
encouraged in the usual attendance upon the Court. At his funeral, indeed, the
bill of expenses for banners and escutcheons of his arms, and other heraldic orna-
ments, alone amounted to between 400/. and 500/. !
The restoration of Charles II. gave hopes of the re- establishment of all former
* According to Noble, James I. raised Garter's place from 40/. to 50/. ; Clarencieux's and Norroy 's each from
20/. to 40/.; the Heralds from 13/. 6s, 8d. to 20/. 135. id. each, and the Pursuivants from 10/. to 20/. each, per
annum. — Hist. Col. Arms, p. 191.
COLLEGE OF ARMS. 89
ystems which had splendour and pageantry Tor their object ; and his coronation
vas conducted in the most sumptuous style. Sir Edward Walker, the faithful
ervant and historian of the late king, was confirmed in his office of Garter^* and
hose of the surviving heralds who had been driven from their situations during
he Commonwealth were recalled, with assurances of future patronage. The
iecline of the Court of Chivalry, which had been gradual in former periods, was
low hastened by the growing dislike of the canon law, and the arbitrary decisions
lind penalties frequently incurred upon very frivolous occasions. Causes, vexa-
ious and nugatory, were multiplied to an excess very inimical to constitutional
iberty; and the authority which was at first submitted to without suspicion of
ventual abuse, was exerted scarcely less arbitrarily than that of the detestable
tar Chamber. In this degenerate state Mr. Hyde (afterwards Lord Chancellor
larendon), as early as 1640, proposed the dissolution of the Court of Chivalry
las a public improvement. He said, *' That he was not ignorant that it was a
court in tymes of war anciently, but in the manner it was now used, and in that
reatness it was now swollen into, as the youngest man myght remember the
Ibegining of it, so, he hoped, the oldest myght see the end of it. He descended to
these particulars, that a citizen of good quality, a merchant, was by that court
[ruined in his estate and his body imprisoned, for calling a swan a goose." It is,
Ihowever, suspected that Mr. Hyde's indignation would not have been roused
lagainst such abuses had not a near relative of his incurred the censure of the
[Heralds in their visitation in 1623, and been branded as an usurper of armorial
distinctions. After the Restoration, and under the auspices of the Duke of Nor-
folk, the ingenious Dr. Plott was directed to collect and arrange all the existing
ijjevidences of the history and privilege of the '' Curia Militaris," with a view to
reconcile the public mind to the re-establishment of its jurisdiction. The effort
was, however, unsuccessful, for, after a long interval, the last cause concerning the
right of bearing arms (being that between Blount and Blunt)' was tried in the
year 1720: the most celebrated that has come down to us being that between
the Scrope and Grosvenor families, temp. Richard 11. ; an elaborate history of
which has been published from '" the Scrope and Grosvenor Roll," and contains
the interesting evidence given by John of Gaunt, Chaucer, and many other noble
and illustrious personages of that period.
The severest punishment that could be inflicted by this court was that of
degradation from the honour of knighthood ; and, as proof of the reluctance with
which it was decreed, three instances only are recorded, during three centuries,
and those at very distant periods: that of Sir Andrew Harclay, in 1322 ; of Sir
Ralph Grey, in 1464; and of Sir Francis Michell, in 1621. The following minute
of the latter case may be considered interesting enough for insertion here : —
'' Degradation of Sir Francis Michell upon petition of parliament. Only two
prior instances : — Andrew Harclay and Sir Ralph Grey. College of Arms sum-
moned by the Earl Marshal to attend in their Coats of Arms, at Westminster, on
* Charles, also, to show the value he had for a well-tried servant, and to evince his regard for the College,
augmented the salary of the then present, and every future Garter, by raising the sum paid out of the Exchequer
from 50^, to 100^. per annum ; and in 1664, by a decree, resolved upon in the Chapter of the Order of St. George,
it was settled, that another 100?. per annum should be paid to Garter out of the revenues of the Order, in lieu of
the casual annuities which had been formerly paid to him by the Sovereign and Knights. — NoUe, Hist. Coll.,
p. 269.
90 LONDON.
Wednesday, the 20th day of June, 1621. Sir Francis Michell being brought
into Court, without the bar, and there sat upon a standing for that purpose
J. Philipot, Somerset, read these words : — ' Be it known to all men, that Sir F,
Michell, Knight, for certain heinous offences and misdemeanours by him com-
mitted, was thought worthy to be degraded of his honour by sentence of Parha
ment. His Majesty being hereupon moved, and his royal pleasure known, it
likewise has pleased him, for example's sake, that their grave and condign sen-
tence should this day be accordingly put into execution in manner and form fol
lowing; that is to say, his sword and gilt spurres, being the ornaments of knight
hood, shall be taken from him, broken and defaced, and the reputation he held
thereby, together with the honourable title of knight, be henceforth no more
used.' Here one of the Knight Marshal's men, standing upon the scaffold withi
him, did cutte his belt whereby his sword did hange, and soe let it fall to the
ground; then he cut his spurres off from his heels, and hurled the one one
way into the Hall, and the other another way. That done, he drew his sword
out of his scabbard, and with his hands brake it over his head, and threw the .one
piece the one way, and the other piece the other way. Then the rest of the
writinge was read and pronounced aloud, viz. : '^ But that he be from hence-
forward reputed, taken, and styled an infamous errant knave. God save the
King.' " In July r2th, 1716, the ceremony of degrading the Duke of Ormond,
attainted of treason, from his Order of the Garter, was performed at Windsor;
and in our time we can, unfortunately, remember the banner of a Knight of the
Bath being pulled down by the heralds, and kicked out of Henry the Seventh's
Chapel, at Westminster.
The last visitation was made in James the Second's time. Some memoranda
of one of the latest visitations are curious enough to deserve transcription, viz. : —
" John Talbot of Salebury, a verry gentyll esqwyr, and well worthye to be takyne
payne for. — Sir John Townley, of Townley. I sought hym all daye, rydynge in
the wyld contrey, and his reward was ij^*., whyche the gwyde had the most part,
and I had as evill a jorney as ever I had. — Sir R. H., knt. The said Sir E. H.
has put awaye the lady his wyffe, and kepys a concubyne in his house, by whom
he has dy vers children ; and by the lady aforesaid he has Ley hall, whych armes
he berys quartered with hys in the furste quarter. He sayd that Master Garter
lycensed hym so to do, and he gave Mr. Garter an angell noble, but he gave me
nothing, nor made me no good die?', but gave me prowde words;" in return for
which the herald took care to chronicle the above scandal.
We can easily understand that the somewhat inquisitorial nature of these visita-
tions would render them (particularly if the herald in the slightest degree
abused his powers) exceedingly distasteful to the public at large, and personally
annoying to some individuals ; at the same time, we cannot but believe that pro-
perly conducted they might be of considerable utility to the nation, and only
vexatious to those who have no claim to consideration in such matters. We have
already pointed out the right Avhich, in our opinion, the College of Arms pos-
sessed to the office of General Registration, and the only, but far from satisfac-
tory reason for erecting a new and separate establishment ; and we need scarcely
remark on the value and importance of such evidence as these minute and
authentic genealogical records would afford in cases of disputed property, titles,
COLLEGE OF ARMS. ^ 91
&c. With regard to armorial bearings, whilst we are of the number who can
fully appreciate the honest pride and satisfaction with which the lineal de-
scendant of one who has deserved well of his country contemplates or displays the
escutcheon which has through centuries been handed down to him untarnished,
and can understand the natural desire of even the most remotely connected with
ancient and honourable families to enjoy the reflected lustre of the quartered
achievement, we have no hesitation in expressing our opinion that the absurd
vanity which induces nearly every person who possesses a gold seal, or a silver
spoon, to decorate it with a crest to which not one in a hundred — we had almost
said, a thousand — has any shadow of pretension, is a fair subject for investigation
and taxation in a form and on a scale differing from those at present prescribed,
and that here again the herald might be employed with equal benefit to himself
and the revenue.
Another service of great trust and high consideration, belonging of ancient
right to the Officers of Arms, is the bearing of letters and messages to sovereign
princes and persons in authority. Abandoning their claim to a much higher
rank, viz. that of the Kn^unE and Fseciales of the Greeks and Romans (the vene-
rable ambassadors who had the privilege of denouncing war or concluding peace,
on their own responsibilities), none will attempt to deny that they were, from the
earliest periods in which mention is made of them, the chosen and respected mes-
sengers of their royal or noble masters. Legh, quoting " Upton's own words''
(the earliest writer extant on the science of heraldry), says, " It is necessary that
all estates should have currours, as suer messengers, for the expedicion of their
businesse, whose office is to passe and repasse on foote . . theis are knights
in their offices, but not nobles, and are called Knightes caligate of Armes, because
they weare startuppes (a sort of boot-stocking) to the middle -leg. Theis when
they have behaved themselves wisely and served worshipfully in this roome ye
space of vii yeres : then were they sett on horsebacke, and called Chivalers of
Armes" (or Knight Riders), " for that they rodd on their soveraignes messages.
Theis must be so vertuous as not to be reproved when he hath served
in that rome vii yeares, if his soveraigne please he may exalt him one degree
higher, whiche is to be created a Purcevaunte . . . and when he hath served
any time he may, at the pleasure of the prince, be created an Hereaught, even
the next day after he is created Pourcevaunt :" and then he adds, '' An Here-
aught is an high office in all his services, as in message," being "messengirs
from Emperour to Emperour, from Kyng to Kynge, and so from one prince to
another ; sometyme declarynge peace, and sometyme againe pronouncing warre.
Theis like Mercury runne up and downe, havying on them not only Aaron's
surcot, but his eloquence, which Moses lacked." This honourable and important
service has in modern times been most unceremoniously transferred from the
Officers of Arms to certain persons appointed by the Secretary of State, and
termed King's (or, as now. Queen's) Messengers. Before the elevation of Mr.
Canning to the premiership, these appointments were generally given to nominees
of the nobility — their valets, butlers, or sons of such domestics ; persons without
any recommendations except those of their masters. Mr. Canning very properly
put a stop to this practice; and justly considering that the bearers of important
dispatches (of necessity admitted to the presence of the highest personages in their
92
LONDON.
own or other countries — nay, it has happened^ to that of the Sovereign himself)
should have the education and manners of gentlemen, took every opportunity of
filling up the vacancies as they occurred with a very superior class of young and
intelligent men, possessing a sufficient knowledge of the principal European lan-
guages, accustomed to good society, and capable of acting in any emergency with
the spirit and discretion that usually accompany such advantages. This was a
great improvement; but the injustice done to the Heralds remained unredressed.
The same jealousy of patronage prevented most likely the acute and accomplished
minister from employing, as of old, the Pursuivant or the Herald — the Knight Cali-
gate, or the Knight Rider. (The latter no longer, alas, remembered by the present
generation, who pass down *' Knight Rider Street,'* within sight of the College,
in utter ignorance of the origin of its appellation.) Yet such were the original
King's Messengers — men of great learning, of good conduct, admissible to knight-
hood and nobility — whose persons were sacred, and whose services were liberally
rewarded by prince and peer, whether they were the bearers of a cartel of defiance,
a treaty of peace, an order of knighthood, or an autograph letter of congratu-
lation or condolence.* Thus it is in this age of reformation and utilitarianism,
an ancient institution is abolished or neglected, as obsolete, without one con-
sideration as to the possibility of adapting it to the spirit or the necessity of the
time. Having gradually deprived the heralds of all important business, and
wholesome authority, the very despoilers are the first to comment upon the utter
inutility of the establishment ! Let us look at the 6th article of the admonition
given to the herald on his creation — '^ You shall not suffer one gentleman to
malign another, and raylynge you shall let {i. e. stop) to the uttermost of your
power." Here is useful employment, heaven knows, and sufficient, too, for a
College possessing a hundred times as many members. We beg to call the atten-
tion of *' the General Peace Society," and *' the Society for the Suppression of
Duelling " (the New Court of Honour and Chivalry), to this peculiar portion of
the duty and office of the heralds. Nay, the Noble and Learned Lord who has
so lately amended the Law of Libel might have fairly claimed the assistance of
Garter and the Officers of Arms in his praiseworthy undertaking. In all ques-
tions affecting the honour of noblemen and gentlemen, the heralds are certainly
privileged to form the Court of Review.
We cannot conclude this necessarily brief and cursory notice of the Heralds*
College without chronicling a few of the worthies who have shed lustre on the
Institution, and are also ornaments of the general literature of Great Britain.
Earliest and highest, perhaps, stands ^' the learned Camden," the son of a
painter-stainer in the Old Bailey, where he was born May 21st, 1551 ; educated
at Christ's Hospital and St. PauFs School, and then sent to Magdalen College,
* In Henry VII.'s reign there appear to have been twenty Pursuivants ordinary and extraordinary ; and Noble
says " the reason why Henry VII. had so many officers at arms at some parts of his reign was the great correspond-
ence upon the Continent he kept more than his predecessors At this period Pursuivants were the
regular messengers of our Sovereigns. Sometimes the extraordinary ones were created to be sent on a sudden
emergency, without any expectation of further promotion : if they showed peculiar adroitness, they were sometimes
made in ordinary, and from thence might become Heralds and Kings at Arms Henry had Berwick
Pursuivant on the borders of Scotland, two for Ireland, several for our dominions in France, Jersey, and such
as were yielded to Henry in Bretagne. These probably were often residents upon the spot whence the names of
their office were taken ; they were chiefly employed in carrying messages to and from the Governors to the Sove-
reign.''— Hist. Coll. of Arms f p." 100.
COLLEGE OF ARMS. 93
I Oxford, from whence^ he removed to Broadgate Hall, now Pembroke Colleo-e,
where, in 1573, he took his degree of Bachelor of Arts. He returned to London
at the age of twenty, and, after rendering himself conspicuous as Second Master
of Westminster School, gained the Head-Mastership in the year 1592. His
' Britannia,' his ' Annals of Queen Elizabeth/ and his * Remains concernino-
Britain,' will satisfy posterity that his reputation has not exceeded his desert,
but that he was '' worthily admired for his great learning, wisdom, and virtue,
through the Christian world." He was created Clarencieux King of Arms, in
1597, without having served as herald or pursuivant, though for ''fashion sake,"
says Wood, " he was created Herald of Arms called Richmond, because no person
can be King before he is a Herald," the day previous to his elevation. " This
was done," he adds, " by the singular favour of Queen Elizabeth, at the incessant
supplication of Foulk Greville, afterwards Lord Brook ; both of them having an
especial respect for him and his great learning in English and other antiquities.'
Camden died at Chiselhurst, in Kent, on the 9th of November, 1623, at the age
of seventy-two, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.
Sir William Dugdale, author of the celebrated ' Monasticon,' and ' the Antiqui-
ties of Warwickshire,' was born at Shustoke, near Coleshill, in that county, on the
12th of September, 1605. He was the only son of John Dugdale, Esq., of Shus-
toke, and of Elizabeth, daughter of Arthur Swynfin, Esq., of Staffordshire. In-
troduced by Sir Symon Archer, of Tamworth, to Sir Christopher Hatton and Sir
Henry Spelman, he was by their joint interest with the Earl of Arundel, then
Earl Marshal, created a Pursuivant of Arms Extraordinary, by the name of
Blanche Lyon, September, 1638: March 18th, 1639-40, he was made Rouge
Croix Pursuivant in Ordinary; and Aprir 16th, 1644, Chester Herald. He
attended Charles I. at the battle of Edgehill, and remained with him till the sur-
render of Oxford to the Parliament, in 1646. Upon the restoration of Charles IL
he was advanced to the office of Norroy King of Arms, by recommendation of
Chancellor Hyde ; and in 1677 he was created Garter Principal King of Arms,
and knighted much against his own inclination, " on account of the smallness of
his estate." He died at Blythe Hall, in Warwickshire, on the 10th of February,
1686, aged eighty, and was buried at Shustoke. " He possessed," in the words of
Dallaway, *' talents entirely adapted to the pursuits of an antiquary, and exerted
indefatigable industry, directed to valuable objects by consummate judgment.
Elias Ashmole, founder of the Museum which bears his name at Oxford, was
the only child of Simon Ashmole, a saddler at Lichfield, an improvident man, who
*' loved war better than making saddles and bridles." Elias was born the 23rd of
May, 1617. From a chorister in Lichfield Cathedral he became a student in law
and music, a solicitor in Chancery, an attorney of the Common Pleas, a gentle-
man of the ordnance in the garrison of Oxford, and a student of natural philo-
sophy, mathematics, and astronomy, in Brazennose College, at that University ;
a commissioner, and afterwards receiver and registrar of excise at Worcester ; a
captain in Lord Ashley's regiment, and comptroller of the ordnance; a botanist,
a chymist, and an astrologer ! He also acquired a knowledge of several manual
arts, such as seal engraving, casting in sand, and '' the mystery of a working gold-
smith." In 1652 he began to study Hebrew, and shortly afterwards general
antiquities, which recommended him to the notice of Sir William Dugdale. In
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LONDON.
1658 this extraordinary man applied himself to the collecting of materials foj
" the History of the Order of the Garter."
Upon the Restoration, Charles II. made him Windsor Herald, June 18, 1660
and on the 3rd of September in that year he was appointed Commissioner o^
Excise in London. On the 2nd of November he was called to the bar in the Middh
Temple Hall; and in January, 1661,admittedF.R.S. In February, he was appointee
by warrant to the secretaryship of Surinam, and preferment followed preferment)
He received his diploma as M.D. from Oxford, in 1669; finished his history oi
''the Order of the Garter" in 1672, and was presented by the King with 400/|
as a mark of his special approbation. In 1675 he resigned his place of Windsor
Herald, and after twice declining the office of Garter King of Arms, and the
honour of representing the city of Lichfield in Parliament, terminated his days ii
honourable retirement. May 18, 1692, in the seventy-sixth year of his age. H(
was buried at Lambeth.
John Austis, an eminent English antiquary, was born at St. Neots, in Corn-
wall, September 28th or 29th, 1669, educated at Oxford, and became a student
of the Middle Temple. In 1702 he represented the borough of St. Germains inj
Parliament, and in 1714 Queen Anne presented him with a reversionary patenl
for the place of Garter King of Arms. In the last Parliament of Anne, he was
returned member for Dunhead or Launceston ; and he sat in the first parliament!
of George I. He afterwards fell under the suspicion of Government as being al
favourer of the exiled family, and was imprisoned at the very time that the place!
of Garter became vacant by the death of the venerable Sir Henry St. George.
After a long and bold struggle for his right as holder of the reversionary patent,
he was created Garter in 1718. He died March 4th, 1744-5, aged 76. His
most celebrated published works are, " The Register of the Most Noble Order
of the Garter," and '' Observations introductory to an Historical Essay on the
Knijrhthood of the Bath ;" but he left behind him some most valuable materials
in MS. for the History of the College of Arms, which are now in the Library.
Francis Sandford, first Rouge Dragon Pursuivant, and then Lancaster Herald,!
temp. Charles II. and James II., has acquired a right to honourable mention as
the author of a most excellent genealogical ' History of England.' He also pub-
lished the ' Ceremonial and Procession at the Coronation of James II.,' in conjunc-l
tion with Gregory King, Rouge Croix Pursuivant, and the 'Funeral of General
Monk.' He was descended from a very ancient and respectable family, seated at|
Sandford, in the county of Salop, and was third son of Francis Sandford, Esq., and
of Elizabeth, daughter of Calcot Chambre, of Williamscot, in Oxfordshire, andi
of Carnow, in Wicklow, Ireland. Francis Sandford was born in the Castle of |
Carnow, and at eleven years of age was driven by the Rebellion to take refuge
at Sandford. At the Restoration, as some recompence for the hardships he and
his family had experienced as adherents to Charles I., he was admitted into the
College of Arms. Sandford was so attached to King James that he resigned
his office on the Revolution in 1668, and died '' advanced in age, poor, and neg-
lected," in Bloomsbury or its vicinity, January 16, 1693, and was buried in St.
Bride's Upper Churchyard.
Sir John Vanbrugh, the well-known dramatic author, and the architect of
Blenheim and Castle Howard, received, as a compliment for his services in
Iti
COLLEGE OF ARMS. 95
)uil(llng the latter edifice, the office of Clarencieux King of Arms, then vacant,
rom Charles, Earl of Carlisle, Deputy Earl Marshal ; and notwithstanding very
pirited remonstrances by the heralds over whose heads he had been appointed,
le was confirmed in the situation, which he afterwards sold, for«»2000/., to
inox Ward, Esq., avowing ignorance of his new profession, and neglect of all its
uties. Of course, we do not notice Sir John as a herald who has done honour
;o the College, but as a person distinguished in literature and the arts, who has
oeen registered as a member of it.
Francis Grose, Richmond Herald, the good-humoured and convivial writer on
ritish antiquities, was the son of a Swiss who settled in England as a jeweller.
iHe was born at Greenford in Middlesex, in 1731, and at an early period of his
life, obtained a situation in the College of Arms, where he eventually reached
the office of Richmond Herald, which he resigned in 1763, when he became
adjutant and paymaster of the Hampshire Militia, and afterwards captain in the
jSurrey Militia. His numerous works are to be found in almost every library.
The principal are ' Views of Antiquities in England and Wales ;' ' Classical
[Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue ;' ' Military Antiquities ;' * History of Dover
Castle ;' ' Rules for Drawing Caricatures ;' ' The Guide to Health, Beauty,
Honour, and Riches ;' and ' The Antiquities of Ireland,' completed by Ledwich,
Captain Grose being suddenly carried off by an apoplectic fit soon after his
arrival in Dublin, May 12, 1791.
Edmund Lodge, Lancaster Herald, has left his name to us connected with the
most beautiful and interestin«: series of * Portraits of Illustrious British Per-
sonao-es ' ever published. The genealogical and biographical memoirs by which
they are accompanied are highly creditable to his talents, of which the College
was too soon deprived. Mr. Lodge was made Lancaster Herald in December,
1793, and died 16th of January, 1839.
Death has lately also robbed the College of another highly respectable and
accomplished author and antiquary in the person of George Frederick Beltz, Esq.,
Lancaster Herald, F.S.A. : and the only Officer of Arms now living Avhose name is
connected with British literature is not a member of the English College, but Ul-
ster King of Arms for Ireland (Sir William Betham), who has contributed several
most erudite and interesting works to the history of the language and general
antiquities of Ireland. Be it remembered that we have not included in this list
the heralds who have written on their own science only, but such as have shed
more or less lustre over the whole world of letters. Amongst the former are to
be found many learned and industrious writers : — William Wyrley, Rouge Croix
Pursuivant, 1604; Sir William Segar, Garter; William Smith, Rouge Dragon
Pursuivant; Ralph Brooke, York Herald; Augustine Vincent, Rouge Croix
Pursuivant ; Robert Glover, Somerset Herald, and his nephew and successor,
Thomas Milles ; John Guillim, Rouge Dragon Pursuivant ; Gregory King,
Lancaster Herald and Deputy Garter; Sir Edward Byshe, Garter; John Gib-
bon, Blue Mantle Pursuivant ; Sir Edward Walker, Garter; Joseph Edmondson,
Mowbray Herald Extraordinary; &c. &c. But few of these names are known
to any but the students of heraldry, whereas most of the others are as " familiar
in our mouths as household words," and hold high and deserved place amongst
96
LONDON.
the worthies of England. We have a confident trust that, under the new impulsj
given to art by the works of modern antiquaries, and the liberal patronage an
support of the present Sovereigns of England, France, Prussia, and Bavaria, th
College of Arms, in despite of the difficulties with which it has to struggle, wil
receive many honourable augmentations to its roll of immortal members ; aiK
from its yet unexplored treasures of antiquity shed a flood of light upon th
history, manners, customs, and habits of the people of England.
[Ilcialdb' College.]
[York or Stafford House, St. James's Park.]
CXXXIL— HOUSES OF THE OLD NOBILITY.
The stranger will seek in vain in London for palaces of the nobility, such as
|abound in Rome, Florence, and Naples — structures which bespeak their patri-
bian ownership, and have each a history of its own as old almost, and as full of
matter, as the city of which it forms a part. Equally vain will be the search of the
imateur of gossiping memoirs and letters of literary men and women, or their patron?,
for hotels like those of Paris, which have been the scene of world-famous petit-
soupers, and other intellectual re-unions. The shadow of the royal tree prevented
the aristocracy of England from bourgeoning into such exuberant rankness as the
aristocracies of the Italian cities ; and the high billows of popular wealth and
independence, surging around and submerging their old civic mansions, pre-
vented them from becoming landmarks of history. Something, too, must be
attributed to the rural tastes of the English aristocracy; or perhaps the very
causes alluded to helped to create these rural tastes. King Jamie, of blessed
Imemory, need not have been so desperately anxious to convince the magnates of
the land that they were much greater men on their own estates than in London.
The power of the Crown, and still more the power of its ministers generally,
selected from the gentry or younger nobility, on the one hand, and the shoulder-
ing of the mob on the other, have kept them sensitively alive to it. In short,
whatever the cause, London is, less than the capital of any other country, the
VOL. VI. H
98 LONDON,
place where the power and prestige of the nobility are conspicuously displayed.
The aristocracy of England have always been inclined to hold with the old
Douglas, that "it is better to hear the lark sing than the mouse cheep/'
Scattered, however, through the multitudinous habitations of London there are
a few aristocratic mansions to which associations of social or public history do
cling; and accidental circumstances — such as the name of a street or court —
recall the memory of others which have long been swept away, enabling us to
trace the gradual westwardly migrations of the nobility.
In the earlier periods of our history a good many of the nobility appear to have
possessed residences in the City. A nobleman, who stood well with the citizens,
might not unfrequently find such a mansion a more secure abode than his strongest
castle, on hill or on the open plain. There was policy, too, in retaining these civic
abodes : it enabled their noble owners to flatter the Londoners by affecting to call
themselves citizens. These city residences of the aristocracy appear to have been
frequently occupied so late as the wars of the Roses. Many of them remained in
the possession of their families as late as the Revolution of 1688, and their sites
are in some instances possibly still retained by their descendants. Nay, as late
as the reign of Charles II. they had not been entirely evacuated by their titled
occupants : some old-fashioned dames and dowagers, some old-world lords, still
nestled in the walls peopled with the shadowy memories of their ancestors.
It would require a big book to trace all the lordly mansions within the City
walls, and their histories : a few only of the more interesting can be here noticed
as specimens.
In Silver Street, at the south end of Monkwell Street, there stood in 1603 a
house built of stone and timber, then appertaining to Lord Windsor, and bearing
his name. This building had been in olden times known as '' The Neville's Inn."
In the 19th of Richard II. it was found by inquisition of a jury, that Elizabeth
Neville died, seized of a great messuage, in the parish of St. Olave, in Monk-
well Street, in London, holden of the king in free burgage, which she held of the
gift of John Neville of Raby, her husband. The house continued in the posses-
sion of the Nevilles, at least until the 4th year of Henry VI., when Ralph Ne-
ville, Earl of Westmoreland, died, seized of ''that messuage," in the parish of
St. Olave, in Farringdon ward, *held burgage as the City of London was held.'"
The Nevilles owned also another London residence — the srreat old house called
" The Erber," near the Church of St. Mary Bothaw, on the east side of Bowgate
Street. Edward III. granted this messuage to one of the family of Scrope : its
last proprietor of that name, in the reign of Henry IV., gave it for life to his
brother Ralph, Earl of Westmoreland. Richard, Earl of Warwick, the King-
maker, inherited the mansion, and retained possession of it till he fell in Barnct
Field. George Duke of Clarence, the hero of the Malmsey-butt, obtained a
grant of the house from Parliament in right of his wife Isabell, daughter of the
Earl of Warwick. Richard III. appears to have taken possession of it; for, in
his reign, it was called the King's Palace, and a ledger-book of that King shows
that it was occupied for him by one Ralph Darnel, a yeoman of the crown. On
the death of Richard it was restored to Edward, son of the Duke of Clarence, in
whose hands it remained till his attainder in the 15th of Henry VII.
It appears, from an entry in the Archiepiscopal Registers of Lambeth, that
HOUSES OF THE OLD NOBILITY. 9^
when the king-making Warwick had his town-house in Dowgate Street, Cicely, the
dowager Duchess of York, resided in the parish of St. Peter's Parva, Paul's Wharf,
united since the great fire, to the parish of St. Benedict. The register referred
I to states, that on the 7th of May, 1483, the archbishops, prelates, and nobles, who
I were nominated executors of Edward IV., met in the Duchess's house, in the
parish above mentioned, to issue a commission for the care and sequestration of
the royal property. This is the only mention known to exist of the Duchess's
city-house. It is curious, and worthy of note, that the will under which this
[assembly acted is not known to exist: some writers have conjectured that it was
I intentionally destroyed during the reign of Richard III.
Crosby House was occupied about the same time by the Duke of Gloucester,
I who continued to reside there as Lord Protector before he assumed the kingly
[title. Some of his retainers were lodged in the suburbs beyond Cripplegate, as
appears from the following passage in Sir Thomas More's " Pittiful Life of King
Edward the Fifth:" — ''And first to show you, that by conjecture he (Richard,
Duke of Gloucester) pretended this thing in his brother's life, you shall under-
stand for a truth that the same night that King Edward [IV.] died, one called
Mistelbrooke, long ere the day sprung, came to the house of one Pottier, dwelling
in Red-Cross Street, without Cripplegate, of London ; and when he was, with
hasty rapping, quickly let in, the said Mistelbrooke showed unto Pottier that
King Edward was that night deceased. ' By my troth,' quoth Pottier, 'then will
my master, the Duke of Gloucester, be king, and that I warrant thee.' What
cause he had so to think, hard it is to say ; whether he, being his servant, knew
any such thing pretended, or otherwise had any inkling thereof; but of likelihood
he spoke it not of aught.''
A palace, built of stone, is said to have stood in old times at the end of
Crooked Lane, facing in the direction of what is now Monument Yard ; and here
tradition says Edward the Black Prince had his residence.
Great aifid Little Winchester Streets, in Broad Street ward, occupy the site of
Winchester House and gardens, but that mansion belongs to a later period. It
was built by Sir William Paulet, created Earl of Wilts and Marquis of Winches-
ter, who was Lord High Treasurer under Edward VI. The ground was a grant
made to the Marquis, when Lord St. John, by Henry VIIL, of part of the
foundation of Fryars Eremites of St. Augustine, settled there in 1253. Lord
Winchester pulled down the east end of the Augustine friars' church to obtain
room for his own mansion. The steeple and choir were left standing and inclosed;
and in 1550 they were let to the Dutch nation in London, as their preaching-place.
Token House Yard, in the same ward, occupies the site of a house and garden,
the property of the Earls of Arundel, and purchased from the Earl then living,
by Sir William Petty, in the reign of Charles II.
The ward of Castle Baynard was thickly studded in old times with noblemen's
houses. The royal mansion designated " the King's Great Wardrobe " probably
constituted the centre of attraction, and gathered " the West End " of those days
around it. This house, which bore the name of the King's Wardrobe as early as
thelifthof Edward III., was built and inhabited by Sir John de Beauchamp,
Knight of the Garter, Constable of Dover and Warden of the Cinque Ports, son
of Guido de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick. Sir John dying in 1359, the house
h2
100 LONDON.
was sold to the king by his executors, and from that time the property of it
remained in the Crown. Richard III. resided here a short time, in the second
year of his reign. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth it was occupied by Sir John
Fortescue, Master of the Wardrobe, Chancellor and Under-Treasurer of the
Exchequer. The secret letters and writings touching the estate of the realm were
wont to be enrolled in the King's Wardrobe, and not in Chancery.
Among the residences of the nobility clustering round the Wardrobe, in addi-
tion to the house of Cicely, Duchess of York, noticed above, were — 1. a large
house originally called Beaumont's Inn, belonging to the family of that name, in
the fourth of Edward III. It afterwards fell into the hands of the Crown, and
Edward IV. in the fifth of his reign gave it to his Chamberlain, William Lord
Hastings, from whom it descended to the Earls of Huntingdon, and being occu-
pied by that family as a town residence, was known in the time of Henry VIII.
by the name of Huntingdon House ; 2. Near St. Paul's Wharf was another great
house, called Scrope's Inn, which belonged to that family in the thirty-first of
Henry VI. ; 3. The Bishop of London's Palace stood on the north-west side of
St. Paul's Churchyard; the Abbey of Fescamp, in Normandy, possessed a mes-
suage between Baynard's Castle and Paul's Wharf, which, having been seized
by Edward III., was by that prince granted to Sir Simon Burleigh, and after-
wards called Burleigh House; the Prior of Okeborn (in Wiltshire) had his
lodging in Castle Lane, but the priory, being of a foreign order, was suppressed
by Henry V., who gave this messuage to his college in Cambridge, now called
King's College.
But a more celebrated building than any of these was Castle Baynard itself,
from which the ward derives its name. It was built by Baynard, a follower of
the Conqueror. After his death the castle was held in succession by Geffrey and
William Baynard. The latter lost the honour of Baynard's Castle by forfeiture,
in nil. It was then granted by King Henry to Robert Fitz-Richard, son of
Gilbert, Earl of Clare, and came by hereditary succession, in 1 198, into the pos-
session of Robert Fitzwater. This Robert played a conspicuous part in the
Barons' wars in the time of King John ; and the guilty love of that monarch for
Fitzwater's daughter, the fair Matilda, is one of the legends with which the
struggle for Magna Charta has been adorned or disfigured — the reader may
choose the epithet which pleases him best. On the 12th of March, 1303, another
Robert Fitzwater acknowledged his service to the City of London for his Castle
of Baynard, before Sir John Blunt, Lord Mayor of London. Stow has recorded
the rights ceded by the Commonalty of London in return to Robert Fitzwater as
their Chatelain and Banner-bearer. These consisted of a certain limited juris-
diction within his hereditary Soke or Ward of Castle Baynard, and the following
privileges and authority in time of war : —
*' The said Robert and his heirs ought to be and are chief Banners of London,
in fee for the Chastiliany, which he and his ancestors had by Castle Baynard, in
the said City. In time of war the said Robert and his heirs ought to serve the
City in manner as followeth : that is — ■
*' The said Robert ought to come, he being the twentieth Man of Arms on
horseback, covered with cloth or armour, unto the great west door of St. Paul,
with his banner displayed before him of his arms. And when he is come to the
HOUSES OF THE OLD NOBILITY. 101
said door, mounted and apparelled as before is said, the Mayor, with his Alder-
men and Sheriffs, armed in their arms, shall come out of the said church of St.
Paul unto the said door, with a banner in his hand, all on foot ; which banner
shall be gules, the image of St. Paul, gold; the face, hands, feet, and sword, of
silver. And as soon as the said Robert shall see the Mayor, Aldermen and
Sheriffs come on foot out of the church, armed with such a banner, he shall alight
from his horse and salute the Mayor, and say to him, ' Sir Mayor, I am come to
do my service which I owe the City.'
" And the Mayor and Aldermen shall answer —
" ' We give to you, as to our Banneret of Fee in this City, the banner of this
City to bear and govern to the honour and profit of this City, to your power.'
: *^ And the said Robert, and his heirs, shall receive the banner in his hands
and go on foot out of the gate, with the banner in his hands ; and the Mayor,
Aldermen, and Sheriffs shall follow to the door, and shall bring an horse to the
said Robert, worth twenty pounds, which horse shall be saddled with a saddle of
the arms of the said Robert, and shall be covered with sindals of the said arms.
^' Also they shall present to him twenty pounds sterling, and deliver it to the
Chamberlain of the said Robert, for his expenses that day. Then the said Robert
shall mount upon the horse which the Mayor presented him, with the banner in
his hand ; and as soon as he is up, he shall say to the Mayor, that he must cause
a Marshal to be chosen for the host, one of the City ; which being done, the said
Eobert shall command the Mayor and Burgesses of the City to warn the Com-
mons to assemble, and all go under the banner of St. Paul ; and the said Robert
shall bear it himself to Aldgate, and there the said Robert and Mayor shall
deliver the said banner of St. Paul to whom they think proper. And if they are
to go out of the City, then the said Robert ought to choose two out of every ward,
the most sage persons, to look to the keeping of the City after they are gone out.
And this Counsel shall be taken in the Priory of the Trinity, near Aldgate ; and
before every town or castle which the host of London shall besiege, if the sieo-e
continue a whole year, the said Robert shall have, for every siege, of the
Commonalty of London, one hundred shillings and no more.'*
These rights continued in the possession of two successors of Robert Fitz water •
how or when the family lost them does not appear. In 1428 (the 7th of Henry
VI.) a great fire happened at Castle Baynard : it was re-built by Humphrey,
Duke of Gloucester, in whose possession it continued till his death. By the
Duke's death and attainder it came to Henry VI. ; and from him to the Duke of
York, who occupied it as his own house in 1457. When the Earls of March and
Warwick entered London in 1460, the former took up his abode in his paternal
mansion of Baynard's Castle ; there it was that he received the intimation of the
resolution of the Londoners, convened by Warwick in St. John's Field, to have
him for their King ; and there he summoned a great council of all the Bishops,
Lords, and Magistrates, in and about London. Richard III. took upon him the
kingly title in Baynard's Castle. Henry VII. repaired and embellished it —
gather as a palace than a fortress — and resided there with his Queen in the
seventh, eighteenth, and twentieth years of his reign. The castle came afterwards
into the possession of the Earls of Pembroke. The last great business of state
transacted Avithin its walls was by the council which had previously proclaimed
102 LONDON.
Lady Jane Grey, meeting there, and resolving to proclaim the Lady Mary Queen ;
moved thereto either by some new light as to the better title of Henry's daughter,
or by seeing that the majority of the nation was on her side. Was it as a reward
for lending his house to this meeting that the Common Council, in the 3rd and
4th of Philip and Mary, '' agreed, at the request of the Earl of Pembroke, that
the City's laystall, adjoining to his Lordship's house, and being noisome to the
same, should be removed, upon condition that he should give the City, towards
the making of a new laystall in another place, two thousand feet of hard stone to
make the vault and wharf thereof, or else forty marks in ready money to buy the
same stone withal ?"
We might go on for many pages to show how the houses of the nobility were
sprinkled over the surface of the City of London, while barons were barons;
before the wars of the Roses had so effectually weeded them, that the few who
remained, and the mushroom race which sprung up to fill their vacant places,
were cropped, by the topiarian art of Henry VH., into forms beseeming the
" trim garden " of a constitutional monarchy. The banner-bearer of the City,
with the nobles who held messuages within the walls, " burgage as the City
of London was held," along with the lordly Abbots and Prelates, like the
Prior of Trinity, who, in virtue of his office," was Alderman of the Soke or Ward
of Portsoken, on the one hand, and the Mayor and other corporate dignities on
the other, formed connecting links between the barons of the realm and the
" barons of London." An alliance, offensive and defensive, was contracted
between a portion of the nobility and the City : the metropolis became an imperium
in imperio, with a nobility and commonalty of its own ; and the experience of the
wars of the Roses showed that London was England — that the master of the
former was master also of the latter.
This circumstance lends an air of greater likelihood to the traditionary
pranks of Prince Hal in Eastcheap. There is a legend of a frolicsome excursion
of Charles IL to the environs of Wapping or Rotherhithe, but that was like her
present Majesty's trip to the Chateau d'Eu, an exceptional case. The difficulty
has been to conceive a Prince habitually resorting to the taverns of the City.
That difficulty is removed when we see that a great number of the nobility
resided in the City ; that even royalty took up its abode within the walls. The
City was then what Westminster is now : and wild Prince Hal ranged about the
former as the wild sons of George III. are shown by the records of Parliamentary
Committees, Courts of Justice, and the equally veracious pages of " the Books,"
and columns of the newspapers, to have ranged about the latter. Nay, Harry
Prince of Wales was no more the solitary scapegrace of his family than George
Prince of Wales, though Shakspere has made Falstaff call Prince John of Lan-
caster a '' young sober-blooded boy," a " demure boy," one whose '' thin drink
over-cooled his blood," and who, " by making many fish-meals, did fall into a
kind of male green sickness." Stow is our witness. Speaking of the year 1410,
the 11th of Henry IV., at which time " there was no tavern then in Eastcheap,"
he informs us, in connection with a previous statement of friendly entertainments
being made in " the cooks' dwellings," that the King*s sons, Thomas and John,
" being in Eastcheap at supper (or rather at breakfast, for it was after the watch
was broken up, betwixt two or three of the clock after midnight), a great debate
HOUSES OF THE OLD NOBILITY. : 103
appcned between their men and others of the court, which lasted one hour, till
he Mayor and Sheriffs, with other citizens, appeased the same." For this inter-
ference the Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs were cited to appear before the King,
* his sons, and divers lords, being highly moved against the City." Gascoignc,
the Chief-Justice, advised the citizens '' to put themselves in the King's grace ;"
jbut they replied *' that they had not offended, but, according to the law, had
|ione their best in stinting debate, and maintaining of the peace." " Upon which
nswer," continues the historian, '' the King remitted all his ire, and dismissed
hem."
A new world came up with Henry VII. There was now a King in Israel, and
both Lords and citizens were forced by him to take their due places in the Com-
Imonwealth, as some of these Lords and the same citizens were mainly instru-
mental in making his descendants do two centuries later. The City, however,
especially its west-end, the portions of Baynard's Castle, and the neighbouring
Blackfriars, continued to be a fashionable quarter for some two centuries after
Henry VII. But even before this, a taste for suburban villas had sent the aris-
tocracy in different directions in search of new sites and country air. To the east
there was little attraction : the marshes of the Lea were in too close proximity,
and in those days, even more than in the present, the Essex Marsh fevers were
"no joke. To the north-east Finsbury was then a great fen. Some sought to
plant themselves northwards in the direction of Islington, and some on the banks
of the Oldbourne (now the sewer of Holborn) ; but the far greater number
affected the line of *' the silent highway;" and, combining rurality with courtli-
ness, perched themselves midway between the City and the Court, for even in
those days the Palace of Westminster vfus par excellence *^ the Court," though not
to the same extent as after Whitehall and St. James's Avere appropriated by the
Sovereign.
The ]Drelates, a pursy and short-breathed generation, were the first to set the
example of flying from the City smoke. Along Holborn and the line of Fleet
Street, and the Strand, their '' Inns'' were frequent at an early period. Thomas
Hatfield, Bishop of Durham, about the year 1S65, built a house to serve as a
City mansion for himself and his successors, near to where Salisbury Street now
abuts upon the Strand. Contiguous to Durham House on the west, was from an
early period the City residence of the Bishops of Norwich, purchased in 1556 by
the Archbishop of York, for himself and his successors. A little to the east of
Catherine Street a small water-course ran down from the fields, and was crossed
in the line of the Strand by a bridge, called Strand Bridge. On the south-east
side of this stream stood the City Mansion of the Bishop of Llandaff, and west of
the bridge were the residences of the Bishops of Chester and Worcester. Essex
Street, in the Strand, occupies the site purchased in 1324 from the Prior and
Canons of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, by Walter, Bishop of Exeter, who
erected a mansion on it for himself and his successors. The Palace of the Bishops
of Bath occupied the site of the present Arundel and Norfolk Streets. William
de Luda, Bishop of Ely, who died in 1297, bequeathed his manor, on the north
side of Holborn Hill, to his successors, upon condition that his next successor
should pay one thousand marks towards the finding of three chaplains in the
chapel there. The residence of the Bishops of Salisbury Avas at the west end
of St. Bride's Church; that of the Bishops of St. David's at the east end.
104 LONDON.
Even at that early age we can trace the palaces of the lay dignitaries mingling
with those of the prelates, but it is not till after the wealth and power of the
church had been shorn by the Eeformation, that the former came to preponderate.
From the time of Elizabeth downward to the Revolution in 1688 we find man-
sions of the nobility in the region now under review, superseding the palaces of
the prelates and shouldering them out of sight.
Of some of the houses appertaining to the dignified clergy, the nobility who
rose with the Reformation, whether of new families or old, obtained possession by
avowed grants of confiscated property from the Crown. Others they acquired
by *' exchange ;" but the new bishops of those days were in no case to drive hard
bargains with the court favourites who invited them to barter. The way in which
good part of the property attached to Ely House changed masters in the time of
Elizabeth is no bad sample of the way in which such .transfers were made. At
her Majesty's mandatory request. Bishop Cox *' granted to Christopher Hatton "
(says a MS. case for the Bishop of Ely in the Harleian Collection), " afterwards
Sir Christopher [and Lord Chancellor], the gate-house of the palace (except two
rooms, used as prisons for those who were arrested or delivered in execution to the
bishop's bailiff; and the lower rooms used for the porter's lodge), the first court-
yard within the gate-house, at the long gallery, dividing it from the second ; the
stables there ; the long gallery, with the rooms above and below it, and some
others; fourteen acres of land, and the keeping of the garden and orchard, for
twenty-one years, paying at Midsummer a red rose for the gate-house and garden,
and for the grounds ten loads of hay and 10?. per annum ; the Bishop reserving to
himself and successors free access through the gate-house, walking in the gardens,
and gathering twenty bushels of roses yearly : Mr. Hatton undertaking to repair
and make the gate-house a convenient dwelling." This lease was confirmed by
the Dean and Chapter of Ely ; but in the following year, in consequence of some
doubts of its validity. Bishop Cox granted all the above property, in fee, to the
Queen herself, her heirs and assigns, yet with a clause of resumption, either by
himself or his successors, on payment of the sum of 1897/. 5*. 8c?., which had
been expended by Hatton on the premises. About nine months afterwards
(June 20, 1578), her Majesty, by her Letters Patent, consigned this estate to Sir
Christopher Hatton, to hold of the manor of East Greenwich. In the reign of
Charles I. proceedings were instituted by Matthew Wren, Bishop of Ely, for the
recovery of this estate; and the Court of Requests, in 1640, decided that the
Bishop had a rij^ht to redeem the premises : but soon afterwards Wren was com-
mitted to the Tower, and the House of Commons nullified the proceedings of the
Court, and dismissed the cause. After the Restoration, Bishop Wren, who had
been reinstated in his diocese, exhibited a bill in Chancery against the then Lord
Hatton and others for the redemption of the premises ; but no decision could
be obtained either by him or his successors, until at length, in the reign of Queen
Anne, Bishop Patrick agreed to terminate this long protracted suit, by leaving
the property in the possession of the then occupants, on condition that 100/. per
annum should be settled on the see of Ely in perpetuity.
The case of Somerset House is still more gross, as related by Stow ; that
favourite child of the proud Protector, Somerset, swallowed up it is hard to say
how many episcopal residences, churches, &c, &c.
"Next beyond Arundel House, on the street side, was sometime a fair
HOUSES OF THE OLD NOBILITY. 105
Cemetery or churchyard, and in the same a parish church, called of the Nativity
)f our Lady (St. Mary), and the Innocents of the Strand ; and of some, by means
jf a brotherhood kept there, called of St. Ursula of the Strand. And near
idjoining to the said church, betwixt it and the river of Thames, was an Inn of
Chancery, commonly called Chester's Inn (because it belonged to the Bishop of
Chester), by others named of the situation. Strand Inn. Then there was a house
belonging to the Bishop of Llandaff : for I find in Record, the fourth of Edward
[I. that a vacant place lying near the church of our Lady at Strand, the said
Bishop procured it of Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, for the enlarging of his
louse. Then had you in the High Street a fair bridge, called Strand Bridge,
iind under it a lane or way, down to the landing-place on the bank of the Thames.
Then was the Bishop of Chester's (commonly called of Lichfield and Coventry), his
Inn or London lodging ; this house was builded by Walter Langton, Bishop of
Chester, Treasurer of England in the reign of Edward I. And next unto it,
idjoining, was the Bishop of Worcester's Inn : — all which, to wit, the parish of
St. Mary at Strand, Strand Inn, Strand Bridgb, with the lane under it, the Bishop
bf Chester's Inn, the Bishop of Worcester's Inn, with all the tenements adjoining,
|vvere, by commandment of Edward, Duke of Somerset, uncle to Edward VI., and
JLord Protector, pulled down and made level ground in the year 1549. In place
whereof, he builded that large and goodly house now called Somerset House."
There is something Homeric in the pains-taking detail with which each tene-
ment is described, and then, after the mind has been duly impressed by this
tedious process with the importance of each, they are merged together by a rapid
irecapitulation, solely for the purpose of showing them swept away to make room
for the princely palace of the proud Protector. And, after all, this enumeration
jconveys but an inadequate idea of the dilapidation effected by Somerset. Spel-
iman says that neither the Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry nor the Bishop of
Llandaff had any recompense for their destroyed palaces : the Bishop of Wor-
cester, who had been chaplain to Somerset, was glad to put up with a house in
White Friars. Besides the palaces above-mentioned, several other buildings were
pulled down to supply materials for the erection of Somerset House. Among
others were the nave, aisles, and bell-tower of the Priory Church of St. John of
Jerusalem at Clerkenwell ; the chapel called Pardon Church Haugh, or Hawe,
on the north side of St. Paul's Cathedral, with the cloisters surrounding it
(except the east side), in which was painted Macabee's, or Machabree's, ' Dance
of Death ;' a chapel founded by Walter Sheryngton, Chancellor of the Duchy
of Lancaster and a Canon of St. Paul's in the reign of Henry VI., near the north
door of the same cathedral ; and the contiguous charnel house and chapel on the
same side, which was probably of very early foundation. Stow says (quoting
Reginald Wolfe as his authority in the margin) that the bones of the dead, which
had been " couched up in a charnel under the chapel, were conveyed from thence
into Finsbury Field (by report of him who paid for the carriage), amounting to
more than 1000 cart-loads, and there laid on a moorish ground, in short raised
by the soilage of the city, to bear three mills."
The indignation which this heartless and indecent violation of the sepulchre
excited in the public mind was made one of the means of accelerating Somerset's
downfall. The space for his palace was levelled in 1549; in the October of that
106 LONDON.
year he was proclaimed by the Lords of the Privy Council ; and in January.
1552-3, he was beheaded on Tower Hill. The house devolved to the Crown, ol
which it has ever since remained an appanage. It has, however, been so tena-
cious of its founder's name, in the quaint words of Fuller, 'though he was not
full five years possessor of it, that it would not change a duchy for a kingdom,
when solemnly proclaimed by King James Denmark House, from the King o{
Denmark lodging therein, and his sister. Queen Anne, repairing thereof." Could
the walls of the old Somerset House have spoken they might have unfolded
many a strange tale. In Elizabeth's time it was assigned at different periods for
the reception of foreign ambassadors. In Lord Burghley's 'Notes' of this reign,
printed at the end of Marsden's ' State Papers,' is the following singular pas-
sage : — ^'Feb. 1566-7. Cornelius de la Noye, an alchemist, wrought in Somerset
House, and abused many in promising to convert any metal into gold." Anne,
the consort of James I., held her court here, which, according to Arthur Wilson,
'' was a continued Mascarado, where she and her ladies, like so many sea-nymphs
or Nereids, appeared in various dresses to the ravishment of the beholders."
Somerset House was afterwards the scene of the bickerings between Charles I
and his new-made wife's French domestics, which elicited from that King a brie]
and pithy note, often re-printed, to *' Steenie" (the Duke of Buckingham), direct-
ing him to dispatch "the beasts" to France without delay. Oliver Cromwell
lay here in state ; and here was laid the scene of the tragic romance of Sii
Edmondbury Godfrey's murder.
A like fate awaited most of the episcopal residences along the Strand after the
triumph of Lutheranism. The Inn of the Bishops of Exeter became first Paget
House, and afterwards Leicester House, and finally Essex House, being the
residence of that favourite of Elizabeth, and the covert where he turned to stand
at bay. The Inn of the Bishop of Bath became Arundel House. The Inn oJ
the Bishop of Durham passed into the possession of the Beaufort family. The
Inn which belonged originally to the Bishops of Norwich, and had been by them
transferred to the Archbishops of York, was acquired by George Villiers, Duke
of Buckingham. The water-gate erected for that favourite by Inigo Jones still
survives, under the designation of York Stairs, and, with the names of the neigh-,
bouring streets, is all that remains to mark the place of the mansion. And what
became of the bishops? A curious document, exhibited at a meeting of the
Society of Antiquaries in 1797, in part answers the question. It is indorsed
" Thomas Shakespeare's Bill,'' and contains a claim for allowance for " charges
and pains" in delivering letters, by Queen Elizabeth's command, to several
prelates in the year 1577. Thomas Shakespeare states that he found the Bishof
of London " at his house at Fulham ;" the Archbishop of York " at Tower Hill;' |
the Bishop of Chichester ''at Westminster;" the Bishop of Durham ''in Alders
gate Street ;" and the Bishop of Worcester ^' lying at Paul's Churchyard."
' The right loyal nobles of England seem to have followed closely the example
set them by King Henry VIII., who laid violent hands on Whitehall, and even
to have "bettered it in the acting." Of the Strand residences of the nobility,
only two of any note were not transferences from the bishops — and even these
were acquired at the expense of the Church.
In March, 1552, a patent was granted to John Russell, Earl of Bedford, "ol
4*>
HOUSES OF THE OLD NOBILITY. 107
e gift of the Covent, or Convent Garden, lying in the parish of St. Martin
the Fields, near Charing Cross, with seven acres, called Long Acre, of the
arly value of 6/. Gs., Sd. parcel of the possessions of the late Duke of Somerset."
his was a modest slice of the church lands the Duke had obtained possession of.
n this grant the Earl of Bedford shortly after erected a mansion, principally of
Dod, for his town residence, near the bottom of what is now called South-
Qpton Street. This building was called Bedford House ; it was inclosed with a
ick wall, and had a large garden extending northward nearly to the site of the
esent-market place : it remained till 1704. .
Northumberland House, at once the oldest and most aristocratic in its ap-
sarance of the existing houses of the nobility, was also erected on ground that had
ice pertained to the Church. On its site once stood an hospital or chapel of St.
ary, founded in the time of Henry IIL ; suppressed along with the alien prio-
cs by Henry V., but restored for a fraternity by Edward IV. After the dis-
lution of monasteries, this site was granted by Edward VI. to Thomas Car-
ardon. The estate afterwards came into the possession of Henry Howard, Earl
Northampton, who erected on it a splendid mansion designated Northampton
ouse. On his death, in 1614, it was inherited by his kinsman, Thomas Howard,
arl of Suffolk, from whom it received the name of Suffolk House. On the mar-
age of Elizabeth, daughter of Theophilus, second Earl of Suffolk, with Alger-
)n Percy, tenth Earl of Northumberland, the mansion passed with the bride
to the possession of her husband, and was re-baptised Northumberland House,
lich name it has since retained. The edifice originally formed three sides of a
uadrangle, the fourth side remaining open to the Thames. The reputed archi-
ict was Bernard Jansen, but the frontispiece to the street has been attributed to
erard Christmas, who rebuilt Aldersgate, in the reign of James I. The prin-
cipal apartments were originally on the Strand side ; but Earl Algernon (who
isliked the noise of that crowded thoroughfare) had the quadrangle completed
'y a fourth side (including the state rooms) towards the river, under the direction
f Inigo Jones. Considerable alterations and additions were made by Sir Hugh
Imithson, who became a Percy on the decease of Algernon, seventh Duke of
Somerset, in 1749-50; two new wings were annexed to the garden front; the
uadrangular court was faced with stone ; great part of the northern front was
ebuilt, but the central division — the entrance gateway — still exhibits the original
vork of Gerard Christmas. Other alterations and repairs were made after a fire,
Vhich, in March, 1780, consumed most of the upper rooms on the north side.
I Northumberland House has its social and political associations. Evelyn
nsited it in June, 1658, and has left in his diary a criticism of the mansion and
nventory of the pictures. The collection has been greatly increased since his
ime, and is now extremely valuable. There is likewise a noble library. Horace
kValpole attended a fete here in the reign of the first Smithson ; his caustic yet
)rilliant account of it has been quoted in an earlier number of 'London.* It was
rom Northumberland House that Horace sallied with a gay party to pay a visit
.0 the Cock Lane ghost. In 1660 General Monk, who had taken up his quarters
|it Whitehall, was invited to this house by Earl Algernon; and here, in confer-
i;nce with him and other nobles and gentlemen, some of the measures were
loncerted which led to the re-establishment of the monarchy. With such remi-
108
LONDON.
niscenccs to inspire him, tlie Northumbrian lion above the gateway might W('
hold out his tail as stiffly as he does, even if he were not the guardian of tl
mingled bloods of Smithson and Percy. '
[Craven House, Wyeli street, 1800.]
At the corner of Drury Lane and Wych Street stood Craven House (rebui
on the site of that of the Druries, the father the friend of Essex, and th
son the patron of Donne the poet), the residence of Earl Craven, and the abod
also of the daughter of James I., the wife of the unfortunate Elector Palatin
King of Bohemia. On her husband's death she became a dependent on th
nobleman who had fought valiantly in her cause, and who, at the restoratio
brought his royal mistress here. She died in a few months after her arrival, bu
the Earl lived till 1697. Portions of the house remained till a comparative!
recent period, and a painting of the Earl was preserved on the wall at the bottoi
of Craven Buildings. The Olympic Theatre now occupies the site on which th
house formerly stood.
During the time of Charles I. and the Commonwealth the houses of the nobi
lity were influenced by two diverging attractions. On the one hand there wa
the desire to be near Whitehall, and (which influenced politicians of the lowe
House as well as those of the upper) to be near the Houses of Parliament. 0
the other, there was the desire —the necessity with the nobility of the popula
party, to keep well with the City. In these unsettled times the City of Londor
for a brief period, almost entirely re-assumed its ancient importance. It was th
treasury of the Commonwealth party, and supplied them with some of their bes
regiments. Accordingly we find the Parliamentary General— Robert, Earl c
HOUSES OF THE OLD NOBILITY. 109
'arwick, occupying at this time what is still proudly called Warwick House, in
e vicinity of Smithfield, though occupied by a shopkeeper. This mansion,
ough it has now lost all external appearance of antiquity, is believed to have
len built in the time of Elizabeth, on ground once belonging to the Priory of
I;. Bartholomew, purchased by the Earl's ancestor, Sir Robert Eich, from Henry
jni., in 1544, for the sum of 1064L Us. 3d. The right to continue St. Bartho-
mew's Fair, as when in possession of the Prior and Convent, was conveyed alono-
iith the land. Hence the origin of the title " Lady Holland's Mob," which used
be bestowed on the uproarious crowd which was wont to congregate on the
e of St. Bartholomew, to ''assist," as the French say, in proclaiming the fair,
is strange the influence that property exercises over men : one might almost
[y with more propriety, that they are possessed by it, than that it is possessed by
lem. Queen Elizabeth was mainly made and kept a "nursing mother" of the
formed Church of England by the necessity of adopting its tenets as the only
les upon which her right to the crown could be argumentatively established ;
id the nobility whose houses were built on church land were, by their owner-
liip, impelled, two reigns later, further than their natural likings would have led
lem, in the ways of revolution. It is not in fables like those of the Niebelungen
one, that wealth sways the destiny of its seeming master. Even an empty name
ould seem to have its influence, and the collocation of the words " Lady Holland's
Fob " to be typical and prophetic of the popular tendencies of those who bear the
tie, through all generations.
Even after the Kestoration, when London had again subsided from its tem-
orary and factitious importance, it proved no easy matter to weed the old
obility entirely out of the City and the [liberties. In Aldersgate they were
lickly sown, as the name of many a court and blind alley, erected on the sites
f their mansions, testifies to this da,j. In some solitary instances the houses
lemselves may have survived, though at present the only one that dwells in our
tcollection is Shaftesbury House, now, by the transmutations of Spencer's
Mutability," converted into a Lying-in Hospital. There was a propriety in an
]arl of Shaftesbury residing so close to the City — the old political fox, who,
mong his other devices, had himself elected alderman at one time.
Among those families which lingered longest in the precincts of the City
as that of Newcastle, the site of whose mansion, erected where once the Con-
ent of Benedictine Nuns stood in Clerkenwell Close, is still pointed out by
be buildings called '' Newcastle Place." The ground on which it was built was
lienated by the crown in the time of Edward VI., and came afterwards into the
ossession of Sir Thomas Challoner, who, if Weever may be believed, built a
ouse in it': — " Within the close of this Nunnery in a spacious fair house, bmlt of
ate by Sir Thomas Challoner, knight, deceased." Challoner died in 1565.
rem his family the house and grounds passed into the possession of Sir William,
-fterwards Earl, Marquess, and Duke of Newcastle, distinguished for his loyalty
0 Charles I. Newcastle House was the residence of two singular women. First
ame the right noble Margaret, Duchess of Newcastle, authoress of a multitude
f high-flown and most unreadable works; of whose history of her husband
^epys says, that it '^ shows her to be a mad, conceited, ridiculous woman, and he
n ass to sufler her to write what she writes to him, and of him ;" and of whose
110
LONUOX.
[Shaftesbury House, Aldevsgate Street, now General Dispensary.]
self that very liusbaiid said, ." a very wise woman is a very foolish thing." Nex'
came Elizabeth, Duchess of Albemarle, and afterwards of Montague, an inciden
in whose life has been dramatised, by CoUey Gibber, in '' The Double Gallant
or Sick Lady's Cure." This lady, eldest daughter and co-heiress of Henry
second Duke of Newcastle, after the death of her first husband, resolved with al
the gravity of lunacy, that a lady of her personal charms, mental gifts, and vas
estates, was entitled to a royal husband. On this hint Ralph, first Duke o
Montacrue, wooed and won her, as Emperor of China. After marriage he playec
the tyrant to the poor insane creature he had wedded for her property, and kep
her in such strict confinement, that her relations compelled him to produce he;
in open court, to prove that she was alive. She survived him nearly thirty yean
and at last '' died of mere old age," at Newcastle House, in 1738. Till the tim
of her death she is said to have Empressed it, and to have been constantly servec
on the knee. The last occupant of Newcastle House, according to Brayley, wa
*' an eminent cabinetmaker, named Mallet," after whose death, about the clo8(
of last century, it was demolished.
But even in the heart of the City some of the old nobility continued to lingei
till the commencement of the eighteenth century. Devonshire Square, in th
Ward of Bishopsgate, marks the site of a residence of that noble family, inhabited
as late as 1704, by a Countess of Devonshire, and frequented by numerous aris
tocratic visitors.
These, however, were exceptions. Immediately after the Restoration the full
tide of aristocratic life set in with a strong current westward. It crossed the
valley from Clerkenwell, and straggled along the north of the Holborn line
There was Montague House, now the British Museum, and disappearing b}
piecemeal as the new and larger buildings, required to contain the continually
increasing collections, grow up around it. To this associated itself in time a Bed-
ford House, on the north side of Bloomsbury Square, and a Lansdowne House.
HOUSES OF THE OLD NOBILITY. Ill
lear where the Foundling Hospital was afterwards erected. '' Westward the
loursc of empire took its way :" the gregarious portion of the nobility settled down
or a time in Lincoln's Inn Fields and Soho Square, but even these have long been
ibandoned through the unaccountable propensity to be, in Wordsworthian
)hrase, '' stepping westward." Even the west end of the Strand began in time
o be thought too remote. The declivity which shelves down towards St. James's
Palace was most affected by those who wished to sun themselves in the rays of
najesty.
Beginning with the Eestoration, and coming down to the present day, the
louses of the nobility have gravitated towards St. James's as to a centre, form-
ng concentric semicircles round it. In front there is, or was, Arlington House
'where Buckingham Palace now stands) ; Stafford House (which, destined
)riginally for a scion of royalty, has passed into the hands of a mere nobleman,
nverting the order of the other's progress) ; Marlborough House, the tribute of a
lation's gratitude to a successful warrior, and the scene of the magnificent imper-
inence of his wife and daughters, who, when he quarrelled with Queen Anne,
ised to show themselves at their Avindows in negligee on levee-days, in order to
lenote that they had '' cut the Queen" (poor Brummell only threatened to cut the
legent !) ; Schomberg House (which has been cut up into three private dwell-
ngs) ; Carlton House (which, like Arlington House, passed into the occupancy
)f royalty, and has since disappeared) ; Wallingford House (converted into the
flLdmiralty) ; Melbourne now Dover House (called, by Sheridan, a *' round
louse"), in which the Duke of York had been incarcerated. Between these and
;he next semicircle stand, or stood, two groups : one at the corner of the Green
ark, consisting of Bridgewater House (recently pulled down), Spencer House,
c. ; the other in St. James's Square, Litchfield House (of political notoriety),
orfolk House, &c. The second semicircle alluded to may be called the line of
iccadilly, and has been sufficiently noticed in our paper on that street. It
gins with the mansion of *' sober Lanesborough dancing with the gout," and ends
ith the site of Leicester House, the pouting- place of the first Princes of Wales of
he Hanoverian line, or perhaps it may be extended down to Northumberland
ouse. Some of these are rich in associations. Burlington House and Devon-
hire House among those still existing, and Arlington and Clarendon House
among those which have passed away, live in the pages of Pepys and Evelyn,
ath House (near Ashburnham House) is memorable as the seat whence the
antalus of modern English politics, old Pulteney, looked out upon St. James's ;
nd Apsley House is, in our day, what Marlborough House was in the age of
Queen Anne. Almost in a line with the mansions now under consideration is
Chesterfield House, where Johnson sat " nursing his wrath to keep it warm" at
being made to kick his heels in the antechamber, and burst into a Johnsonian
explosion, when Collcy Cibber, issuing from the penetralia of the patron's
shrine, showed whose conversation had been preferred to his ; and Lansdowne
House, whose noble owner followed Bentham, Avhen that most "impracticable" of
sages was on a visit to him, to his bedchamber, with the awkward question —
'' Mr. Bentham, can you serve me ? " A third but more straggling semicircle is
formed by Grosvenor House, near Hyde Park, the mansion of the Duke of Port-
112
LONDON.
land in Cavendisli Square, and was terminated by Newport and Grafton Houses,
near where there is now a market named after the former.
Few of the existing mansions of the nobility differ in their external appearance
from those of other wealthy individuals; and their internal arrangements, though
sumptuous, are all of a strictly private character. Nothing of the feudal or
governing character remains about them to warrant public intrusion. The
mansion of a Roman noble is the mansion of a public character — of the prince —
and, with its halls and galleries, is meant to be public. But the mansion of a
British nobleman is the residence of the man, where none but friends are expected
or allowed to enter. Some of them, however, do still bear on their front the
characteristic stamp of a lordly residence. This has been already remarked of
Northumberland House, and applies to Burlington House, and to the ducal
mansion of the Bentincks in Portman Square. There is an exclusive, almost
fortified air about these buildings, as if meant to lodge troops of retainers and
keep the " profanum vulgus " at a distance. They are citadels, into which the
" morgue aristocratique " may withdraw and secure itself from intrusion. The
solidity and almost gloom of the Bentinck mansion, in particular, seems to fit it
for being tenanted with —
" Sour dames of honour, once who garnished
The drawing-room of fierce Queen Mary.''
Spencer House is also remarkable for its architectural pretensions, and
Grosvenor House for its combination of sculpture with architectural ornament.
[Spencer House, Green Fark.j
[Throne Room, Buckingham Palace.]
CXXXIIL— BUCKlNGHAxM AND OLD WESTMINSTER
PALACES.
" Build me a palace/' said the King of Bavaria a few years ago to his architect^
in words we have before had occasion slightly to refer to, " in which nothing
within or without shall be of transient fashion or interest ; a palace for my pos-
terity, and my people, as well as myself; of which the decorations shall be
durable as well as splendid, and shall appear one or two centuries hence as
pleasing to the eye and taste as they do now." Such was one monarch's idea of
what a royal palace should be, and grandly has the idea been realized : let us now
glance at that of another. " George the Fourth," says Mrs. Jameson, '' had a
predilection for low ceilings, so all the future inhabitants of the Pimlico Palace
must endure suffocation ; and as his Majesty did not live on good terms with his
wife, no accommodation was prepared for a future Queen of England ;" and that
monarch's views and tastes have also been done thorough justice to. Klenze, the
architect of Munich, in his way, is not more worthy of the Bavarian sovereign
than Nash, in his, of the English. Unfortunately, there is considerable difference
VOL. VI. I
114 LONDON.
between the ways, and the result is, that whilst the capital of Bavaria possesses
a palace of which it may well be proud, since the edifice is the admiration of
Europe, London has that of Buckingham ! There are some facts, so significant
in their naked simplicity, that they only lose force by comment, — this is one of
them.
The Palace derives its name from the house that previously stood here, which
was built, in 1703, by John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, who took the
trouble to describe it at great length in a letter that has been frequently pub-
lished, but somewhat unnecessarily, it appears, so far as its architectural value is
concerned ; the House is described as appearing, just before it was pulled down,
''dull, dowdy, and decent, nothing more than a large, substantial, and respectable-
looking red brick house.''* The Duke at the same time gave us some particulars
of his domestic life in it, none of which are half so interesting as that feature of it
which he did not give — his "constant visit to the noted gaming-house at Mary-
lebone, the place of assemblage of all the infamous sharpers of his time. His
grace always gave them a dinner at the conclusion of the season, and his parting
toast was, *' May as many of us as remain unhanged next spring, meet here again.'"]-
Among the many sins laid to the authors of the Palace, it is curious to find the
choice of the locality enumerated, seeing that the site is that of the once famous
Mulberry Gardens, which used to be considered remarkable for " amenity" of
situation, and seeing into how beautiful a place has been converted the meadow,
with its formal canal, that formerly extended in front of the spot : we refer to the
enclosure.
Buckingham Palace was commenced in 1825, from the designs and under
the superintendence of Mr. Nash, and completed only recently by Mr. Blore,
who, after the former gentleman's death, in 1S35, assumed the direction. The
general character of the structure, with all its merits or demerits, of course belongs
to the original architect, whose successor, we have no doubt, has not the slightest
desire to be invested with the reputation of the design. Perhaps the most forcible
impression conveyed to the mind in examining the well-known eastern front,
is that of wonder at the ingenuity — ^as we might almost call it — shown in pre-
venting a pile of such large dimensions from appearing large, and in gently letting
down, at it were, step by step, as the spectator moves to different points of aspect,
the natural idea of grandeur with which he comes prepared to invest a building
erected for the residence of the Sovereign of the British Empire. It is very
pretty, no doubt; and Waagen says it looks "as if some wicked magician had
suddenly transformed some capricious stage scenery into solid reality." Would
that the same magician could re- transform it, and at the same time return thej
many hundreds of thousands of pounds it has cost into the Exchequer ! If it is
not grand, then, in its general efl'ect, is it original ? By no means, says one critic,
and an able one (Mr. Leeds), " both the arrangement and the composition being
often of the most common-place and hackneyed kind." Well, if borrowed, is it
well borrowed ? has the artist shown a thorough appreciation of all the essential
qualities of his original, and how they may be best adapted to his own purposes?
" Oh, dear no," replies another, smiling even at the question ; " look at that bald-
* Leeds' Illustrations of Public Buildings — Buclcingliam Palace.
f Pennant's ' London/ ed. 1701, p. 132. .j
BUCKINGHAM AND OLD WESTMINSTER PALACES. 115
looking Doric of the basement, so carefully stripped of its characteristic frieze,
and then look at the elegant Corinthian of the upper order, a contrast without
harmony in itself, and therefore, if for that reason alone, most un-Grecian."
Neither grand nor original, nor deeply versed in the classic lore of his art, the
designer was of course a thorough practical architect, one who, if you turn him
to the mysteries of architectural arrangement with all its mighty maze of halls,
and saloons, and chambers,
" The Goidian knot of it he will unloose
Familiar as his garter ?"
Why, not exactly, remarks a third critic; ''for instance, these wings, when first built,
were found too small, and in consequence had to be pulled down and enlarged;
the attic from a similar cause had to be raised, and thus we lost what would have
been the one picturesque feature of the pile, the pediment of the central portico
standing out strongly relieved against the sky ; and it may also be added, an
architect of the class you describe would hardly have committed such a solecism
as to build a dome which he should afterwards have to acknowledge he was not
at all aware would be visible from the Park." In the name of common sense, then,
it is asked for the last time, and impatiently, '• Why was such an architect chosen ?'*
to which it can only be replied. We cannot tell, unless it be that the choice lay
with the *' finest gentleman in Europe;" that George IV. was King.
But let us now examine the interior. A sumptuous hall receives us, as we pass
below the portico ; a hall surrounded with an extensive range of double columns
standing on an elevated continuous basement, every one formed of a single piece
of veined white (Carrara) marble, with gilded bases and capitals. The floor is
also of variegated marble, and the steps of the grand s'taircase on the left solid
masses of the same costly material, and the rail of mosaic gold. The reader may
imagine the effect of such a combination, which is enhanced to a surprising degree
by the play of the lights and shadows through ,'the place, the former streaming-
down from the staircase, the latter produced by the depth within the columns.
Directly facing the entrance, we have at times also another addition to the archi-
tectural picturesqueness of the scene, in the vista between the pillars directly
facing the entrance, — through the sculpture gallery which it crosses, — and so on
through the open door of the librar}^, or council-room, with its semicircular ter-
mination (forming the inner portion of the projection seen in our view of the
garden front), to the very windows that open on the opposite side of the building.
The library, which is very large, is used as a waiting-room for dejDutations, v/hich,
as soon as the Queen is prepared to receive them, pass across the sculpture gal-
lery into the hall, and thence ascend by the grand staircase through an ante-room,
and the green drawing-room to the throne-room. The library, with the other
rooms on each side of it, are furnished and decorated in a manner that happily
combines elegance and luxury with simplicity and comfort, whilst their situation
is truly delightful, opening as they do directly upon a terrace, having the con-
servatory at one extremity, the new chapel on the other, whilst over the balustrade,
with its elegant vases' of flowers, appears the beautifully varied and undulating
surface (of course artificially made) of the park-like grounds, '' a mimic Arcady
embosomed in deep foliage," as it has been called, '' a gay delicious solitude
I 2
116
LONDON.
rescued from the fiwmm strepitumque Romce.'' The sculpture in the gallery con-
sists chiefly of busts of eminent statesmen, and members of the royal family,
ranged on each side through the gallery, which extends the whole length of the
central portion of the front of the edifice. Ascending the grand staircase towards
the State apartments, we find these latter comprise — to mention the principal
only — an ante- room, the green drawing-room, and the throne -room, in the eastern
front of the palace; and a dining-room, music-room, and two drawing-rooms in
the western or garden front, with a picture gallery over the sculpture gallery,
between the two ranges. All that luxury can desire, or skill and wealth accom-
- [Oarden Front.]
plish, to make these apartments magnificent, in the ordinary modes of obtaining
magnificence, is to be found here in an extraordinary degree. The green draw-
ing-room well deserves its name, for it is one continuous illustration of that colour
in all its varieties of tints, from the walls with their striped satin hangings, down
to the smallest article of the furniture, the whole beautifully relieved by gilded
borders and mouldings. The play of the subdued light which enters through
the slightly dimmed glass of the windows (from which one looks through the
pillars of the portico upon the marble arch, and the delicious little panorama of
the inclosure), is peculiarly magical, caught and reflected back as it is in endless
repetitions in the glazed pannels of the door, and in the pier glasses, or sportively
dancing to and fro among the pendant drops of the richly cut lustres that hang
at intervals from the ceiling. The height of this, as well as of all the other apart-
BUCKINGHAM AND OLD WESTMINSTER PALACES. 117
ments on this floor, is thirty-two feet. The prevailing colour of the throne-room
is crimson, the walls being hung with crimson striped satin, and the alcove with
crimson velvet, both also relieved by a profusion of golden hues. The ceiling is
' richly carved and gilt ; and the frieze below, adorned with bassi-relievi by Baily,
after designs by Stothard, illustrative of the wars of the White and Ked Roses.
The scene presented in the throne-room on State occasions is as picturesque as it
is splendid. Then her Her Majesty appears on the throne in her regal robes, with
the Prince on her left, and a most brilliant group of attendant ladies on her right,
whilst the members of the deputation, to whom audience is given, advance through
a broad avenue formed by the gentlemen-at-arms, in their peculiarly rich and
graceful costume, each bearing an axe on his shoulder : a relic of past times
which is not quite in harmony with the glitter around. From the throne-room
we pass to the picture gallery, which charms us at the first glance by the
admirable distribution and arrangement of the light, which is admitted by a
treble range of skylights extending through the entire length of the gallery.
There are, consequently, no bad places for pictures. The collection is very
valuable, though, rightly considered, it should form but one division of a com-
plete regal picture gallery, since it comprises in the main works of the Flemish
and Dutch schools. The chief exceptions are Reynolds' ' Death of Dido/ and
his ' Cymon and Iphigenia,' a landscape by Gainsborough, with a few recent
English works, some pictures by Watteau, and — an interesting evidence of
Titian's versatility — a landscape, with herdsmen and cattle, by that master. Of
the extraordinary wealth of the collection in the schools we have mentioned, some
idea may be formed from the enumeration of the number of works by their chief
artists : — three by Albert Durer, seven by Rembrandt^, seventeen by Teniers, five
by Ostade^ six by Gerard Dow, nine by Cuyp, eight by Wouvermans, three by
Paul Potter, six by Rubens, five by Vandyke, in addition to his various portraits
of children, and a great number of others by masters scarcely less famous.
Among Rembrandt's pictures, we must specially mention the ' Wise Men's
Offering;' among Vandyke's, the ^Marriage of St. Catherine;' among Albert
Durer's, the ' Miser ;' and, among Rubens', the portrait of his wife. Claude's
' Europa ' also enriches the collection. The history of the pictures here explains
the great number of Dutch pictures found among them ; they belonged, for the
most part, to George IV., who purchased them from Sir Francis Baring, and was
proud enough ever afterwards of his acquisition.
From the pictures, we pass to the range of rooms that occupy the western or garden
front of the same story, namely, the dining-room at the southern extremity, then
the music-room with its orchestra, and other appropriate fittings up, next the bow
drawing-room, in the centre, so called from the semicircular projection; whilst
beyond, towards the northern extremity, we find the yellow drawing-room, the
most superb of the whole. Full length portraits of members of the royal family,
painted in pannels on the walls, form a conspicuous feature. As an illustration
of the sumptuous character of the decorations of this and the other drawing-
rooms, it may be mentioned that the floor is bordered with satin and holly-wood^
inlaid with devices of rose and tulip-wood. The most interesting portion of
these rooms, to our mind, however, is the series of sculptures in relief by Pitts.
In the bow drawing-room, the frieze on the side, facing the bow, represents
118 LONDON.
I
Eloquence^ that on the south Pleasure, that on the north Harmony. It is not
difficult to perceive the artist had a noticeable and appropriate meaning in these
works. In the yellow drawing-room he has given us a series of twelve reliefs,
descriptive of the origin and progress of pleasure, namely, Love awakening the
Soul to Pleasure — the Soul in the bower of Fancy — the pleasure of Decoration —
the invention of Music — the pleasure of Music — the Dance — the Masquerade —
the Drama — the contest for the Palm — the Palm resigned — the struggle for the
Laurel — the Laurel obtained. Lastly, in the third drawing-room, within arches
produced by the elliptical curving of the ceiling, immediately above the cornice,
are three reliefs representing the apotheoses of the poets Spenser, Shakspere,
and Milton — each comprising numerous subordinate figures. The private apart-
ments of Her Majesty extend along the whole of the northern front of the palace,
and are therefore directly connected with the suite we have just noticed. One
almost invariable feature of the numerous rooms of the palace is a piano, in
all places a pleasant and genial-looking instrument from its associations; here
the very number of such instruments suggests more than ordinarily interesting
fancies and speculations : some wandering and most magical touch, we have heard
it whispered, will at times make such sweet sounds float to and from them, now
here now there, now high now low, that the surprised and spell-bound listener,
whom fortunate chance has accidentally brought within hearing, might almost
ask in the words of Ferdinand^ in the * Tempest,' —
" Where should this music be ? i' the air or earth ?"
and sigh to add —
" It sounds no more.'*
It will be seen from the preceding pages that the interior of Buckingham Palace
is truly superb; that marble pillars with gilded bases and capitals, marble and
inlaid floors, gorgeous hangings and mirrors, sumptuously adorned ceilings, have
been scattered about with a prodigal hand ; your decorative builders, and painters,
and upholsterers, are great here ; but if we look beyond these matters, for
that highest species of adornment to which all others in such mansions should be
the mere subordinates, we are disappointed. We may look in vain at Buck-
ingham Palace for what is the distinctive glory of the yjalace at Munich, a grand
and harmonious system of decoration which, while affording opportunity for the
development of the talents of the best artists of the time, and in that alone giving
the structure a high and peculiarly suitable interest, also stamps upon every wall
and ceiling, on every alcove and recess, their own appropriate expression, whether
in painting or sculpture, of the uses of the hall or apartments to which they
belong — of the elevating, or endearing, or fanciful associations with which parti-
cular history or general custom or feeling may have invested such places; or
which, in the absence of definite uses and associations, opens to the artist a field
for still greater triumphs, bidding him, in the words of the poet —
" O sweet fancy ! let her loose''
into the regions of the universal, to summon from thence whatever shapes or
visions of power and loveliness m.ost po^verfully attract him. No fear but he will
find some connexion between them and their future local habitation, however
hidden from ordinary eyes — no fear, such is the magic of art, but he will make
BUCKINGHAM AND OLD WESTMINSTER PALACES. 119
them sec it too. And, if not, your great artist is himself a sufficient link of con-
nexion, though he of all men will be the least inclined to rely upon that alone.
To make these remarks clearer, let us glance for a moment at the Bavarian
structure. At the very entrance, the key-note, as it were, of the lofty and har-
monious spirit that pervades the whole, is struck, in the motto (the king's own),
inscribed in golden letters, '' Just and Firm," and embodied also in the grandly
modelled colossal caryatid figures that support the doorwa}'^, and, in a figurative
:sense, the palace itself. As we pass on, we find at every turn something to
stimulate thought, and .av/aken noble emotions. In the series of chambers
I allotted to the king's use, the w^alls are painted with subjects from the poets
of Greece, commencing with the * History of Orpheus,' from Linus, the earliest
poet of that country, and ending with Theocritus. The Queen's apartments
! present a similar series from the German poets, arranged in a similarly artistical
manner. Both form magnificent pictorial and poetical histories. But it is in the
State apartments that the grandeur of the palace appears in its grandest shape.
The four principal rooms are decorated by paintings in fresco, on a colossal
scale, representative of the national epic, the Niebelungen Lied, by Schnorr, '' one
of the greatest living artists of Europe," says Mrs. Jameson, " and these
four rooms will form, when completed, the very triumph of the romantic
school of painting." Not onl}'' are the whole of the paintings of the palace by
the greatest of the German painters, but the very decorations that accompany
them are an everlasting study and delight : they are at once so graceful, so
luxuriant, and so harmonious with the greater works they enfold, and with the place
in which they appear. We can hardly resist transcribing another evidence of the
high poetical and artistical feeling of the chief architect, Klenze, from the
charming writer to whom we^are indebted for these notices of the palace ; for, like
the whole subject, it is filled Avith instruction for us. We have paid dearly for a
failure, and it behoves us to know how success may be obtained before there is
any danger of fresh experiments by incompetent men. Fortunately, too, there
is a general interest awakening to these matters, that promises, rightly directed,
to be attended with the happiest results. Mrs. Jameson is speaking in the
passage in question of the Queen's throne-room. '' On the ceiling, which is
richly ornamented, are four medallions, exhibiting, under the efifigies of four
admirable women, the four feminine cardinal virtues. Constancy is represented
by Maria Theresa ; Maternal Love by Cornelia; Charity by St. Elizabeth (the
Margravine of Thuringia) ; * and Filial Tenderness by Julia Pia Alpinula : —
' And there — O sweet and sacred be the name !
Julia, the daughter, the devoted, gave
Her youth to Heaven ; her heart, beneath a claim .
Nearest to Heaven's, broke o'er a father's grave.'
Lot'd Byron.
* The legend of this charming sauit, one of the most popular in Germany, is but little known among us. She
was the Avil'e of a Margrave of Thuringia, who was a fierce avaricious man, while she herself was all made up of
tenderness and melting pity. She lived with her husband in his castle on the Wartsburg, and was accustomed
to go out every morning to distribute alms among the poor of the valley. Her husband, jealous and covetous, for-
bade her thus to exercise her bounty ; but as she regarded her duty to God and to the poor, even as paramount to
conjugal obedience, she secretly contiruied her cliaritable offices. Her husband encountered her one morning as
she was leaving the castle willi a covered basket containing meat, bvead, and wino for a starving family. He
demanded, angrily, what she had in her basket? Elizabeth, trembling, nut fur herself, bnt fur lier wretched pro-
teges, replied with a faltering voice that she had been gathering roses in the garden. Tlie fierce chiefrain, not
believing her, snatched off the napkin, and Elizabeth fell on her knoei. But, behold, a miracle had been operated
in her favour ! The basket was full of roses, fresh gathered, antl wet with dew.
120
LONDON.
'' ' I always avoid emblematical and allegorical figures, wherever it is pes*
sible, for they are cold and arbitrary, and do not speak to the heart/ said Baron
Klenze, perceiving how much I was charmed with the idea of thus personifying
the womanly virtues."* Is not such a palace truly a palace for the people as
well as the King ? a home not merely for a Monarch to live in^ but one where he
must be constantly reminded, in the most persuasive of modes, how to live?
There remains to be noticed one circumstance in connection with our chief metro-
politan Palace, and it is one of encouragement and promise. Under the auspices
of her present Majesty and her consort, a new spirit is in progress of development
there, which may yet work wonders even in a place so architecturally unsuitable.
We allude to her Majesty's summer-house, which is in process of decoration, with
fresco paintings, forming a series of subjects from Comus. The choice of sub-
ject for the place is admirable. The artists are Eastlake, Ross, Maclise, Stanfield,
E. Landseer, and Uwins. ^
Buckingham Palace has, of course, no history of its own to recount, but as the
residence of the descendants of the long line of Kings who^have made the neigh-
bouring Palace of Westminster a household word through the world, it has an
intimate connection with that pile ; so we have but to pass the few hundreds of
yards of space that intervene, and give free play to the recollections that so fruit-
ful a subject must arouse. And once within its precincts, almost every step we
take we pass some spot that has been made memorable by the buildings that
have existed on the site, or by the incidents or events that have there taken place.
Here in New Palace Yard were two interesting structures, of which all vestige
has long passed away, — the conduit or fountain, from whence, on occasions of
great festivity, wine flowed forth for all to drink that pleased ; and the lofty Clock
Tower, which stood directly opposite the Hall, where now is the passage into
Bridge Street. The history of this tower forms a choice story. Maitland thus
relates it : — '^ A certain poor man, in an action of debt, being fined the sum of
thirteen shillings and four-pence, Eandolphus Ingham, Chief Justice of the King's
Bench, commiserating his case, caused the court-roll to be erased, and the fine
reduced to six shillings and eightpence ; which being soon afterwards discovered,
Ingham was amerced in a pecuniary mulct of eight hundred marks : which was
employed in erecting the said bell-tower on the north side of the said enclosure,
opposite Westminster Hall gate ; in which tower was placed a bell and a clock,
which, striking hourly, was to remind the Judges in the Hall of the fate of their
brother, in order to prevent all dirty work for the future. However, this fact
seems to have been forgotten by Catlyn, Chief Justice of the King's Bench, in
the reign of Queen Elizabeth, by his attempting the razure of a court-roll ; but
Southcote, his brother judge, instead of assenting to this, plainly told him that
he had no inclination to build a clock-house." In the Chapter House of the
Abbey, here on our right, the Commons of England first sat as a separate body
from the Lords, and an amusing instance has been preserved of the very dif-
ferent position as to dignity and power they enjoyed then, compared with the pre
sent time. '' On one occasion the Commons, forgetting the solemn purposes of
their assembling, became so riotous, and created so great a turmoil, that the
abbot waxed indignant at the profanation, and, collecting a sufficiently strong
party, turned the whole legislative wisdom out of his house, and swore lustily
* ' Visits and Sketches at Home and Abroad,' vol. i. p. 283,
BUCKINGHAM AND OLD WESTMINSTER PALACES.
121
ipU
i
.at the place should not be again defiled with a like rabble."* It must have
"■ i;en a fine thing to have been an abbot in those days. We are now in Old
jalace Yard, where events so crowd upon us that we can but refer, and that
ightly, to the principal. In the north-east corner was the house that Percy, one
' the gunpowder conspirators, took for the furtherance of the plot, and the cellar
I which the powder was deposited, and at the door of which Fawkes was suddenly
nested as he came out to look about him at midnight; and who was thus pre-
ented from blowing up himself, his assailants, and the houses, as undoubtedly he
ouldhave done had he had the opportunity, on seeing that the plot was discovered.
I^nd here in the yard, Fawkes, Winter, Rookwood, and Keys were executed,
lere again, a few years later, the all- accomplished Sir Walter Raleigh suffered
eath on a sentence passed many years before, saying, at the close of an ex-
uisitely beautiful prayer, ''Now I am going to God." Taking up the axe he
jlt its edge, and smiling, observed, " This is a sharp medicine, but it will cure
II diseases." His behaviour seems to have moved even the executioner, for he
aused when Raleigh, having laid his head on the block, was expecting the blow.
What dost thou fear ?" said he ; *' strike, man !" and so he died.
The two areas we have mentioned, with the road extending from one to the
ther, and the river, mark pretty nearly the boundaries of the Old Palace. The
*alace Yards were the courts of this edifice, and Palace Stairs still point out the
pot where the monarchs of England were accustomed to pass to and from the
iver. The earliest notice of a royal residence at Westminster occurs during the
eign of Canute^ when Wulnoth was abbot, a man celebrated at once for his " great
dsdom and fine elocution." And Widmore, the historian of the Abbey, says,
'that for his sake that Prince came frequently to the Abbey ;" and he also speaks
>f the Abbey as ''being so near the King's Palace." Norden even tells uS; that
sll
pi
fDodrway from the Cld Palace.]
* ' Westminster Review,' Oct. 1831.
122
LONDON.
" in the time of Edward the Confessor, a Palace at Westminster was destroyed b^
fire, which had been inhabited by Canute, about the year 1035." However thi
may have been, there is no doubt that the earliest parts of the building tha
has been so long denominated the Palace at Westminster, were the work of th*
Confessor, who is supposed to have died in one of its apartments, that knowi
first as St. Edward's Chamber, and subsequently as the Painted Chamber. Th<
triangular arch that existed in the vaults beneath this apartment, make it tole
rably certain that the walls and foundations were of the Confessor's erection
although the chamber was altered in its general appearance by Henry III., ii
accordance with the architecture of his time. By him also, no doubt, the paint
ings were placed on its walls that gave it the name of the Painted Chamber
though these were not discovered till the commencement of the present century
when the old tapestry that covered the walls was removed. The enthusiastic
delight of antiquaries may be imagined when it was found that these paintings
so many centuries old, were of a masterly character, representing the battles o
the Maccabees ; the Seven Brethren ; St. John, as a pilgrim, presenting a rint
to the Confessor, in reference to the well-known legend; the Canonization o
the Confessor, with seraj^him, &c. In the battle-scenes there were a great num
ber of figures grouped with admirable skill, and representing, in many cases, in
dividual character with a remarkable force of expression. Here is an example.—
[From the Paink-d Chamber.]
Will it be believed that the authorities allowed the whole to be speedily coatee
over with whitewash ? In this chamber the warrant Avas signed for the executiori
of Charles I. After the fire, the walls were raised and roofed over, and the whoh
fitted up for the accommodation of the House of Lords during the building o:
the New Houses.
Another portion of the Confessor's building was the old House of Lords, th«
'' fair '' apartment mentioned by Stow, and the one that Fawkes and his fellow-
conspirators sought to blow up ; and, by the way, the cellar itself where the guih
powder was deposited beneath has been discovered to have been the kitchen o:
BUCKINGHAM AND OLD WESTMINSTER PALACES. 123
Isig Edward, a fact the EaiT of Northampton, Avho presided at the trial of
G met the Jesuit, stated he had ascertained by ancient records; and when the
bilding was pulled down, about 1823, to make way for a royal gallery, the
oi^inal buttery hatch of the kitchen, with an adjoining ambry or cupboard, was
f( nd near the south end. The recent House of Lords, the one destroyed by the
fi', was also a part of the ancient building, and a curious variety of names and
pi'poses it has known from the period of its erection to that of its destruction.
Ist, it formed, in all probability, the Hall, before the erection by Rufus of the
v;t structure now known by that name, and in consequence of which erection
itvas designated as the Little Hall. Here occurred the incident so characteristic
0' he Lion Heart, which Brompton mentions in his Chronicle : — " King Richard
t); First, being at dinner at Westminster, in the hall which is entitled the Little
Fill, received tidings that King Philip of France had entered Normand}^ and
biieged Verneuil ; whereupon he swore that he would never turn away his face
«i:il he had met him and fought with him ; and, having directed an opening to
b made in the wall [the remains of which, according to the chronicler, were
vible when he wrote], he immediately made his way through it, and proceeded
t Portsmouth." By the time of the second Richard, Little Hall had changed to
Ahite Hall, and John of Gaunt sat in it as seneschal for the determination of
cims relating to the coronation of his nephew. Next we find it as the Court of
1 cjuests, instituted in the reign of Henry VH., when it was also, according to
S)w, called " the Poor Man's Court, because there he could have right without
ppng any money." Fortunate poor of the fifteenth century ! From the
(urt of Requests it was converted into the House of Lords, at the time of the
pliamentary union with Ireland, when the old apartment was abandoned from
ynt of size to accommodate the new members. This was the House of Lords
cstroyed at the fire, with the beautiful tapestry in it, taken from the old House,
rpresenting the victories over the Spanish Armada. The order for the execution
( this national memorial was given by the brave commander of the English
let, the Earl of Nottingham, and the artists were Cornelius Vroom, the author
c the design, and Francis Spiering, who executed it. Vroom had a hundred
J3ces of gold, and the entire cost was 1628/. The border was composed of the
lads of the chief Eno-lish commanders. The earl sold it to James I. Next to
o
► . Stephen's Chapel, the loss of this matchless specimen was the severest,
1 cause the most irremediable, result of the fire. The windows here represented,
f-ming a part of the southern wall of the building we have just described, and
nich were almost the only vestiges left in recent times of the Confessor's work,
^!rc fully revealed during that event; what remains of the building constitutes
] rt of the present House of Commons. To all these apartments of the old
],lace may be added a cluster of smaller ones that hung as it were around them
i the neighbourhood of Old Palace Yard, such as the Prince's Chamber; and
uny of which no designation has been preserved; with cellars innumerable,
(i tending below every part of the Confessor's pile.
The Conqueror is said, but the statement is of doubtful character, to have con-
i;med what the Confessor had begun, by enlarging the palace to the north, whilst
Jufus built the magnificent hall, which we shall have an opportunity of speak-
-g of at length in our ensuing Number, on the New Plouses of Parliamentj and
124
LONDON.
[Windows from the Old Palaco.]
shall not therefore dwell upon here. The next noticeable addition was St. Stephen'
Chapel, built by the king of that name, and afterwards rebuilt by Edward I., the
burnt in the '' vehement fire"of 1298, once more rebuilt in the reigns of Edward 11
and III., and completed in that of the latter about 1363, in that exquisite style
architecture which one can never be wearied of admiring, the Gothic in its purei
form, divested of all the rudeness that accompanied it in its earlier stages, but not ye
overlaid by the excess of ornament that marked it subsequently. But the decoration
of this chapel form the most interesting part of its history now, as showing — whs
parts of the neighbouring Abbey and the Temple Church have also satisfactoril
demonstrated — that the art of decorative painting, in the higher meaning of th
term, like the arts of sculpture and architecture, was in those '^ dark ages" in ahig)
state of development. When the chapel was first fitted up for the Commons, in th
reign of Edward VI., the walls were wainscotted, a new floor raised above, and
new ceiling below the original ones; in consequence, the artistical treasures wer
completely hidden — forgotten — lost. Their re-appearance caused no little sen
sation among antiquaries and lovers of art. The Commons, like the Lords, ha
to make fresh arrangements at the Union in 1800, so the whole side walls of th
beautiful chapel were taken down, except the buttresses that supported the ol<
roof, and thus the paintings were discovered. Many of these were in oil. The^
comprised, in numerous compartments, the histories of Jonah, Daniel, Jeremiah
Job, Tobit, Judith, Susanna, and Bel and the Dragon, from the Old Testament
from the New there were the Ascension of Christ, and the miracles and mar
tyrdom of the Apostles. At the same time it was found that the walls had beeil
originally adorned with sculpture (twelve full-length statues of stone raised oi
piers are mentioned), gorgeously decorated in colour and gilding, and that thi
wmdows had been filled with stained glass^ illustrating a similarly double series
BUCKINGHAM AND OLD WESTMINSTER PALACES. 125
stories from the Bible. But it is impossible now to recal to the imagination
i all their completeness of effect the original glories of St. Stephen's Chapel :
V are too little used to the contemplation of such scenes in reality. A curious
(^•cumstance must here be mentioned : there exists a royal order, dated 1350, for
te impressment of painters and others for these very works. St. Stephen's was
ijt alone in its splendour : its vestibule — chapel or crypt beneath — its cloister — its
6iall oratory, with chantry above, attached to the cloister, all were characterised
1 their architectural beauty. The cloisters, indeed, having been rebuilt in the
lign of Henry VIII., presented a scene of sumptuousness, particularly on the
iof, that might almost vie with the neighbouring chapel of Henry VII. To lose
J this either by the fire itself or by the necessary demolitions afterwards, was
ileed a national calamity. As King Stephen had very little of the saint about
lin, whilst the name given to his chapel might make one naturally conclude it is he
tio is referred to, we may remark that the king dedicated it to his namesake the
iirtyr. The collegiate establishment of the chapel, as settled by Edward III.,
(nsisted of a dean, twelve secular canons, twelve vicars, four clerks, six choristers,
jrerger, and a chapel keeper ; and so liberally was it endowed by him, that at
te dissolution the yearly revenues amounted to nearly 1100/.
We have thus noticed the periods at which the palace was begun, and from
tne to time increased ; but that element which eventually caused so much ruin
t the remains of the old palace, had more than once before played some exceed-
ig'ly mischievous pranks of the same kind, and rendered extensive re-buildings
icessary. Nothing, indeed, but the wonderful strength of the walls which the
< jnfessor's workmen erected could have enabled those portions we have referred
1 of his structure to escape so long as they did. In 1263 the Little Hall, with
imy other houses adjoining, were consumed by fire, and had to be extensively re-
] ired. The incidental injuries must have been serious. This fire occurred towards
le end of the reign of Henry III., who, besides making some minor additions,
! catly adorned the palace with the paintings which he caused to be executed
i the Painted Chamber, and, no doubt, in other parts also. Only thirty-five
ars later occurred the ^' vehement fire," which caused so much destruction that
16 King, Edward I., was obliged to remove his Court to the Archbishop of York's
^ilace at Whitehall, Avhich he continued thenceforth to occupy occasionally till
is death. The rebuildings necessitated by this event were of a most extensive
< aracter ; so much so indeed that Edward left the greater part to his son, in
lose reign, and principally during the years 1307-1310, they were carried into
« ect. The Chapel alone seems to have been left unrestored, till Edward III.
1 built it entirely in the splendid manner we have already described. These
^ -buildings of the second Richard have an interest attached to them of a notice-
ii)le character. In 1389 Chaucer was appointed Clerk of the Works here, as
•3II as at the Tower, and at the Mews near Charing Cross—a fact which natu-
lly suggests the enquiry, Did the great poet really fulfil in person, or only by
';puty, the duties of the position ? — If the former, the very selection, for such a
)st, is something like evidence of a more than ordinary amount of architectural
)ility on the part of the author of the ' Canterbury Tales.' Messrs. Britton and
rayley observe,* "It seems probable that this office was granted to Chaucer
* From Britton and Brayley's ' History of the PalaQe/ a work to wliicli we here beg to acknowledge our
ligations.
126 LONDON. j
more with a view of providing him with a salary under the Crown than from an
skill which he possessed in architectural science ; yet, in the following year am'
exactly on that day twelvemonth upon which his appointment had been signed!
he received the royal mandate to proceed to the restoration of the collegiati'
chapel of St. George, at Windsor, which is described as being in a state of ruin
By another precept (tested, like the latter one, at Westminster, on the samedaj^)
William Hannay, the then Comptroller of the Works at the Palace of West
minster, &c., was directed to verify the accounts of the said Geoffrey, for thi
repairs of the said Chapel, in order that the same should be discharged at tin
King's Exchequer." Now, it is to be observed, in answer to the presumption will
which this passage sets out, that not only do the facts following bear every marl
of the regular businesslike proceedings that would characterise the connectioi
of the real architectural man of business and his employers, but it is also to h
noted that in the division of our public men into two classes — those useful to thi
public, and those useful to themselves only, it is not now the custom, and in al
likelihood never has been, to permit •^'^ clerks" of any rank to luxuriate in th'
latter position, except where time and an altered state of things may have lef
none of the more important original duties of the office to be performed. Thai
was evidently not the case with Chaucer's appointment. But the writers v/e hav»|
referred to, add that "In January, 1391, Chaucer was appointed Clerk of thi
Works ; but he was himself superseded a few months afterwards by Join
Gedney, who, following his predecessor's example, appointed a deputy oi
the 16th of September, in the same year, and who continued in office durin
the 15th and 16th years of Richard II." That the said deputy was no
appointed before seventeen months had elapsed from the date of the appoint
ment, and until, as we have seen, Chaucer had been certainly engaged ii
the restoration of St. George's Chapel, Windsor, either as virtual or nomina
architect, seems to us to tell the entire character of the transaction, that thi
poet was theoretically, and in a lofty sense of the [term, an architect, with jus
as much practical knowledge as was sufficient to develope his views^ when an
important occasion called them forth. One offers : — great reparations are goin,
on in one of the most important public buildings of the country, Chaucer's couij
connection causes his talents to be known, appreciated, and put in requisition ; hi
plans are begun under his own inspection for many months, and then the poel
desiring to pursue his own proper vocation, meditating too at the very time, ii
not actually engaged in his glorious work, the ' Canterbury Tales,' ajipoints hi
deputy to continue the course shaped out. The same hypothesis explains wh}
in that time of incessant turmoil and change, he, a man of action as well as reflec
tion, might be dismissed from his office without any material injury to the worl
and why his successor should so coolly follow his example by naming his deput
almost im.mediately after his own appointment. Chaucer, we may add, reside
within the Palace precincts, in a house that stood in the garden of St. Mary
Chapel, on the very spot now occupied by Henry VII. 's Chapel. His duties a
clerk of the works very probably first led him to this house, which he afterward
leased for a long term, and there, it is presumed, he died. To the reputation c
the illustrious scholar, ambassador, patriot, and poet, there should seem no nee^
to endeavour thus to add that of the artist-architect, but the grandly built an
*'all sided" minds of some of these older worthies could not appreciate tha
I
BUCKINGHAM AND OLD WESTxMINSTER PALACES. 127
odern view of human nature, which demands mere poets in literature any more
lan mere heads of pin-makers in political economy, and it is pleasant to dwell
ipon the fruits of their faith.
I A third fire occurring in 1512, was a very successful imitation of the second;
rain was immense damage done; again was the King (Henry VIII.) driven to
fork Place. And there he stayed. From that time ceased the history of the
:ild Palace as a place of regal residence. The Great Hall^ with the courts of
Lw and some of the offices, were restored, but as to the rest, the act of parlia-
lent, annexing York Place to the King's Palace at Westminster for ever, speaks
iery plainly. It was then, and had for a long time been, '' in utter ruin and
|2cay." It is not necessary, and would be far from interesting, to trace, step
y step, the process of restoration from that period to the fire, as the different
arts were found to be required for the accommodation of Parliament and the
Courts of Law ; we therefore conclude with a few notices of a more important
laracter relating to the latter.
I We need hardly say that the Courts of Law were originally considered in fact,
5 well as in name, the King's Courts, in which he personally presided ; the
\ench was his seat, — and which courts, even at first, moved about with him as he
oved. The inconvenience of this arrangement seems to have caused their per-
lanent settlement at his chief residence, the Palace of Westminster. So early as
069, we find a law court here, in which Elfric, Abbot of Peterborough, was tried
efore the King. The Courts of Chancery and King's Bench sat till within the
ist twenty years or so in the Hall, whilst those of the Common Pleas and the
Exchequer were accommodated in the old apartments of the Palace, ranged along
10 side of the Hall. These, with num.erous others, Avere all swept away to make
)om for the new courts, erected by Sir John Soane, 1820-1825, in which all the
burts are to be now found. Having already given one amusing story in con-
cction with the legal reminiscences of Westminster, v/e add another of a different
baractcr, and of higher interest. Our readers will remember the admirable scene
1 Shakspere's Second Part of Henry IV., between Henry V., immediately after
is father's death, and the Chief Justice, who had once committed Henry to prison
^r striking him on the judgment seat; the incident to which this scene refers
ands not alone, the Piacita Roll of the 34th of Edward I. furnishing inci-
cntally an interesting parallel: — ''Roger de Hexham complained to the King
lat whereas he was the justice appointed to determine a dispute between Mary,
le wife of V/illiam de Brewes, plaintiff, and William de Brewes, defendant,
3spccting a sum of 800 marks which she claimed from him, and that having
ccided in favour of the former, the said William, immediately after judgment
as pronounced, contemptuously approached the bar, and asked the said Roger,
1 gross and upbraiding language, if he would defend that judgment; and he
fterwards insulted him in bitter and taunting terms, as he was going through
le Exchequer Chamber to the King, saying to him, Roger, Roger, thou hast
ow obtained thy will of that ihou hast so long desired." William de Brewes,
hen arraigned before the King and his council for this offence, acknowledged
is guilt, *' and because," continues the record, '•' such contempt and disrespect,
3 well towards the King's ministers as towards the King himself or his court,
re very odious to the King, as of late expressly aj^pcared when his Mrijcsty
128
LONDON.
expelled from his JiouseJiold, for nearly half a year, his dearly -heloved son, Edwara
Prince of Wales, 07i account of certain improper words tohich he had addressed t
one of his ministers, and suffered him not to enter his presence until he had ren
dered satisfaction to the said officer for his offence ; it was decreed by the Kinj
and council that the aforesaid William should proceed, unattired, bare-headed
and holding a torch in his hand, from the King's Bench in Westminster Hall
during full court, to the Exchequer, and there ask pardon from the aforesaic
Roger, and make an apology for his trespass." And after that he was committee
to the Tower during pleasure. The terrible Star Chamber may be here fitting!
noticed as — what in effect it Avas — an irregular appendage to the Courts of Law
whose rules it contemned or overruled as it pleased. A time there Avas in Eng
land when even the King's courts could not satisfy the desires of the King
thirsting for arbitrary power over the lives and fortunes of his subjects. Th
building that was pulled down within the present century was of the date o
Elizabeth ; erected then, it should seem, with a kind of prophetic knowledge tha
there was a great increase of business coming, for from the close of her reign dowi
to what might be almost called the close of that of Charles I. in 1641, the Sta
Chamber became the peculiar dread and abhorrence of the people. We owe th
Commonwealth some gratitude for putting down that frightful nuisance, what
ever we may think of its other deeds. No doubt the Chamber of Elizabeth (th
building shown below) was erected on the site of the older one. The name ha
been explained in various ways. Star Chamber, according to Sir Thomas Smith'|
conjecture, '' either because it was full of windows, or because at the first all th
roof thereof was decked with images or stars gilded ;" or, according to Black
stone's, from its being a place of deposit for the contracts of the Jews '' calle(
starra or starrs, from the Hebrew shetar."
[The St;u Chamber, Wostniiaster Palace.
I
[Weslminsler Hall, v.itli the ancient suvvouuding buildings restored.]
CXXXIV.— WESTMINSTER HALL AND THE NEW HOUSES
OF PARLIAMENT.
One need not desire a more striking illustration of the recently altered state of
public feeling and knowledge on the subject of our great national edifices than is
ifurnished by the contrast between Buckingham Palace and the new Houses of
Parliament ; all that, in grandeur and characteristic expression, the first — as we
have endeavoured to point out in a previous number — is not, but ought to have
been, it is now tolerably certain the second will be. Indeed, it is hardly too
much to say, that if the works now in progress are carried on in the spirit with
which they have been commenced, we shall not simply possess a structure that
may bear comparison with any foreign structures of the same era, but that will
it once take English architecture out of the shadow of its own greatness, by
rivalling the glorious productions of our forefathers, the builders of the won-
ierful abbeys and cathedrals. And as with architecture, so with painting and
fvith sculpture : the artists of England will long have reason to remember the
rebuilding of these houses ; centuries hence their historians will refer to it as the
[nost momentous event in the records of English art : '' Then it was," we may
imagine them saying, '' the impulse was given that has gone on steadily increasing
n power down to the present time, when English art are words of scarcely less
potent meaning than English poetry, through the civilized world." Not the least
mrprising, and, when rightly examined, possibly not the least gratifying feature
)f the change to which we have referred, is the mode in which it has been brought
ibout, in so short a time. The change is the work of no enlightened but des-
VOL. VI. K
130 LONDON.
potic sovereign J who may create a temporary taste in accordance with his own-
to die^ most likely, when he dies, unless his exertions have been attended by
peculiarly favourable conjunctions of circumstances; it is the work of no very
great artist — who may not only also produce tastes favourable to his art but
make them permanent into the bargain — for we have of late had no such man;
nor of any body of artists combining together for the purpose, as the Academy
once proposed to do in connection with St. Paul's ; it is not even the work-
though they may lay claim to a noticeable portion of it — of critical writers in the
press and enlightened men of taste in the world : it seems rather the result of
a variety of agencies working, at first, apparently unconnected with each other,
but suddenly brought into conjunction by the unexpected demand for a national
edifice of the very highest character. Modern public buildings, for instance,
have long been, as a whole, a subject of dissatisfaction with the best judges; and
no wonder, when we consider the jobbing, the ignorance, and the presumption
that has so often disgraced those who have had the choice of the architect and,
in a great degree, the direction of his labours ; wonderfully, therefore, was the
architectural atmosphere purified by the introduction of the system of open com-
petition, and the subsequent appearance, through its instrumentality, of such a
plan as that by Mr. Barry. The decorations of our buildings were little better^
Avhen they had any ; and where they had not, the effect of the naked and chilling-
looking walls, roofs and windows, was felt, even before men generally were aware
of the cause ; whilst, to those who were familiar, either personally or by descrip-
tions^ with the recent structures of Munich, such walls became barer and chillier
than ever; and there only needed the successful experiment of the Temple Church
to satisfy all parties that in going back to the glow of colour and gilding we were
not going back, as it would have been thought twenty j'ears ago, to barbarism.
But naked walls did not suggest these feelings only. The absence of the loftiest
school of painting has also been a continual subject of regret with those who
have meditated upon the importance of the pictorial instruction of a nation in
the history of the events that have mainly contributed to make it what it is ; and
of something more than regret with the ambitious and able artist^ thus debarred
from the highest powers and triumphs of his profession. But how was such a
school to be established? One of Britain's greatest historical painters — Barry —
would have starved but for his extraordinary powers of self-denial ; and since
then wealthy patrons have remained as indifferent as ever, or have lived in houses
too small for the admission of pictures on the usual historical scale. There was
but one hope of a solution of the problem — namel}^, that in satisfying the general
and growing thirst for information which characterised the time, artistical know-
ledge and tastes might be diffused among the people themselves, and thus lead,
directly or indirectly, to the artistical adornment of our public buildings. Our
Penny Magazines and other cheap publications have solved that problem ; in
familiarising, through the medium of engravings, their hundreds of thousands oJ
readers with the productions of the greatest masters. The rest was and is easy
with a Minister personally distinguished for his enlightened and liberal patronage
of art ; and who, not only as a minister, but as a member of the Commission
appointed by her Majesty to inquire whether advantage might not be taken ol
the rebuilding of the Houses, for the encouragement of the Fine Arts, now
WESTMINSTER HALL AND THE NEW HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. 131
parries the same qualifications into the service of the country. It is to this Com-
inission we owe the interesting scene lately presented in the Hall— the exhibition
i)f the Cartoons ; which has in itself proved that the materials are ready for a great
idvance, namely, artists capable of showing the way; a public not merely read\-,
3ut eager, to follow.
Numerous as are the divisions of the new houses, owing to the great number
)f apartments required for committee-rooms, offices, and for the residences of the
;cver?d officers of the Houses, from the Speaker of the Commons downwards
he whole is characterised by a grand and harmonious simplicity of arrano-ement.
We may thus briefly describe the plan. The chief entrance will be throuo-h West-
ninster Hall, forming, we should imagine, the noblest vestibule in the world.
From thence, the visitor, ascending the flight of stairs at its extremity, turnino- to the
jcft, and then ascending a second flight, will find himself at the commencement of
iSt. Stephen s Hall (built on the site of St. Stephen's Chapel, or the old House
|)f Commons, and its lobby), with a long vista before him, first through the Hall
tself, ninety feet long, then through the octagon hall, the grand centre of the
nle, sixty feet in diameter, and so on through the corridor beyond to the distant
vaiting-hall connected with the entrance from the opposite side of the building,
n the middle of the river front. The breadth of St. Stephen's Hall will be
hirty feet, its height the same as the octagon hall, fifty feet. As the latter is
cached, the whole of the main features of the plan will become at once apparent,
.^rom hence branch off* to the left in one continuous range, the Commons' corridor,
lien the lobby, then the House itself; and, to the right, in still grander succes-
ion, the corridor, lobby, and House of the Peers ; beyond which, in the same
ine, lies the Victoria Gallery, one hundred and thirty feet long, forty-five wide,
imd fifty high, in close connection with the Koyal entrance, beneath the Victoria
Cower, a work which does as much honour to the architect's courage for having
n-oposed it, as it will do to his skill when he shall have completed it. One can
lardly tell how to believe it, and yet it is certainly true, that a tower, larger than
he largest of our cathedral towers, is in course of erection during this the nine-
eenth century. The manner in which the corridors, open courts, libraries, offices,
md residences of the officers of the Houses, are grouped around the more
mportant portions of the edifice, is admirable for its combination of utility with
)eauty of arrangement. We may note how happily are connected the guard-
jOoms and Queen's robing-room, and the immense Royal Court, with the Victoria
jrower and Gallery; the Speaker's residence at the north-east angle, with the
douse over whose sittings he presides ; the diff'erent committee-rooms, and the
libraries with the Houses to which they respectively belong; and the Conference
jiall, with both, commanding — as the place for a meeting of the two estates
jhould — the noblest position that the magnificent river front can furnish, namely,
he spot over the entrance gateway in the centre of the fagade. The dimensions
•f the two Houses are as follows : — The Peers 93 feet long, 45 wide, and 50
ligh; the Commons 83 feet long, 46 wide, and 50 high. The height, therefore,
'fall the chief portions of the interior is the same. The ceiling, in both Houses,
.s well as in the Victoria Gallery, Conference Hall, and other apartments of the
^alace generally, will be flat, the only exceptions being St. Stephen's Hall, and
he octagon hall, where the roofs Vvill be groined in stone.
K 2
132
LONDON.
We should have been glad to have furnished our readers with a view of the
exterior, either as it is in its unfinished state, or as it is to be according to the
desif^-ns of its author; but the objections, we understand (and we must own very
naturally), are so decided against the first course as liable to convey inadequate
ideas of the whole ; and against the second, from the alterations that in the
course of the works are constantly being made in matters of detail; that we deem
ourselves at once obliged and fortunate in being able to give a sketch even of a
small portion of the river front, that may serve simply to indicate the sumptuous
character of the architectural and sculpturesque decorations. The whole of this
front, with its wings, is now fast approaching to completion ; and it may here he
[Sketch of the Decorations of the unfinished South Wing of the New Houses of Parliament.]
remarked, as a proof of the uselessness of copying the original designs, and pre-
senting them as engravings of the building, which we still see from time to time
done, that elegant turrets have been substituted for the buttresses originally
proposed ; that the niches with statues, a most important feature, have been added,
and that generally the whole surface has been most surprisingly enriched. Every
square yard of it is now a study. The statues, both on the east and on the west
fronts (forming the ends of the pile, as we might call them from the length of the
latter), represent the same series of monarchs, that is from the Heptarchy to the
Conquest ; a repetition, we own, of which we do not see the peculiar beauty. Of the
statues themselves it is impossible to speak too highly. The arms, coronets, and
names in black letter fashion,' all in high relief, of every four monarchs (the
number comprised in each bay, two above and two below), are grouped togethei
WESTMINSTER HALL AND THE NEW HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. 133
[into a most rich-looking piece of workmanship, forming the chief ornament of the
broad band of decoration that divides the two chief stories. The smaller statues
of the river front comprise all the sovereigns from the Conquest down to Her
present Majesty, whose reign will be signalised by the erection of the structure.
It was an odd coincidence that the number of places for the statues should be
[exactly that of the number of statues required to complete the series. Of the two
I towers, the only portions yet visible are the cluster of arches that are to bear
jthe clock tower, and the massive and most elaborately designed piers of the
[other, with the crown conspicuously sculptured on each side of the two that
[will form the entrance. The state of the interior demands no particular mention,
as the walls have scarcely yet reached the height of the principal floor, on which
are the apartments and halls to which we have referred. It may here be ob-
served that the architect proposes an extension of the original site marked out
for his labours, which from its importance in enhancing the effect of the exterior
of the pile, and the uses to which the additional space obtained may be turned,
is likely enough to be acceded to either at present or at some future time. Mr.
Barry observes,* '' It has ever been considered by me a great defect in my design
for the New Houses of Parliament, that it does not comprise a front of sufficient
length towards the Abbey, particularly as the building will, perhaps, be better
and more generally seen on that side than upon any other. This was impossible,
owing to the broken outline of the site with which I had to deal. I propose,
therefore^ that an addition should be made to the building, for the purpose of
enclosing New Palace Yard, and thus of obtaining the desired front. This addi-
tion would be in accordance with the plan of the ancient Palace of Westminster,
in which the Hall was formerly placed in a quadrangle [as shown in our view,
where the old buildings, the clock tower, &c., are restored], where, in consequence
of its low level, it must have .been seen and approached, as it would ever be under
such circumstances, to the best advantage. The proposed addition would, in my
opinion, be of considerable importance as regards the increased accommodation
and convenience that it would afford, in addition to what is already provided for
in the new building, as hitherto proposed. It has long been a subject of serious
complaint and reproach, that the present law courts are most inconveniently
restricted in their arrangements and accommodation. If it should be determined
to retain the Courts at Westminster, the proposed addition would admit of the
means of removing the cause of complaint ; it would also afford accommodation
for places of refreshment for the public, for which no provision has been made
in the new building ; also for Royal Commissions, and other occasional purposes
required by government, and now hired, most inconveniently, in various parts of
the town, at a considerable amount of rental, or for such of the government
offices as may, without inconvenience, be detached from the rest ; such as, for
instance, the Office of Woods, or for a Record Office, and chambers or residences
of public officers. It will also afford the opportunity of making an imposing
principal entrance to the entire edifice, at the angle of Bridge Street and St.
Margaret's Street ; a feature which is at present required, and which would add
considerably, not only to the effect of the building, but also to its security in
times of public commotion." In continuation, Mr. Barry points out the necessity
* In his Report to the Commissioners on the Fine Arts, recently published in their Second Report.
134 LONDON.
of bringing Westminster Bridge more into accordance with the New Houses as
respects elevation, outline, and character, and which is scarcely less necessary as
regards the first for the Houses^ than for the convenience of the public itself,
the steep ascent of the bridge being both dangerous and inconvenient.* He
also urges the necessity of embanking the river on the south side, at all
events, if it cannot be accomplished on the north also. " Having maturely
considered the subject," he observes, "I think it would be practicable to obtain a
public road of ample width upon arches, from the termini of the South Eastern
and Dover and the Brighton Railroads, at the foot of London Bridge, to the
terminus of the South Western Railway, at Vauxhall.'' And how imperatively
such a road is needed for health, and for the making the Thames appear as so
noble a river should, when surrounded by all the wealth and splendour and
luxuries which it has done so much to create, we need not urge here : of course,
the architect, whilst weighing these advantages, naturally feels anxious for so
commanding a point of view of his structure as that part of the embankment
directly opposite would form. As it is only fair that the south side should present
something in return for the glorious view to be there enjoyed, Mr. Barry proposes
that the arches be of considerable height, so as not to interfere with the waterside
frontages of the wharfs, and of sufficient depth to allow of the erection of handsome
masses of buildings for residence, along the back. We have not yet exhausted the
architect's views of the improvement which it is desirable should accompany the
erection of the Houses. He evidently warms with his subject. "Old Palace Yard
is proposed to be considerably increased in size by the demolition of the houses
which now occupy that site, as well as the houses on both sides of Abingdon
Street, by which means a fine area for the convenience of state processions, and
the carriages of peers and others attending the House of Lords, as well as a spa-
cious landing-place adjoining the river, would be obtained. The Victoria Tower,
as well as the south and west fronts of the building, would thus be displayed to
the best advantage. The Chapter House would be laid open to public view, and
if restored, would form a striking feature in conjunction with the Abbey; and a
considerable extent of new building frontage that would be obtained by this
alteration might be occupied with houses of importance, in a style of architecture
in harmony with the Abbey and new Houses of Parliament, by which a grand and
imposing effect, as a whole, would be produced. As one means of improving the
approaches, it is proposed that the noble width of street at Whitehall should be
extended southwards by the removal of the houses between Parliament Street
and King Street, by which the Abbey would be wholly exposed to view as far as
Whitehall Chapel. The houses on the north side of King Street should be
removed for the purpose of substituting houses or public buildings, if required, of
an imposing style of architecture. Millbank Street is proposed to be widened and
improved, in order to make it a convenient and effective approach from Millbank
Road to the Victoria Tower and Old Palace Yard. Tothill Street is also pro-
posed to be widened and improved, in order that it may be made an equally
convenient and striking approach to the Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, and
* Professor Hosking, the able lecturer on architecture, at King's College, was amongst the first to suggest such
an alteration of Westminster Bridge as should make it at once convenient, and in harmony with the great build-
ing near it.
WESTMINSTER HALL AND THE NEW HOUSES OF PARLLAMENT. 135
Whitehall, from the west end of the town. St. Margaret's Church, if suffered to
remain in its present position, should be improved in its external decorations, in
jrder that it may not disgrace, as it now does, the noble pile of the Abbey which
rises above it." The magnificence and far-sightedness of view apparent through
all these arrangements need no comment nor illustration, unless it be to say, that
if the architect's views should be carried out, it will be a question whether the
works within or the works without the new palace will redound most to his honour;
he will be, in a word, realising an approach to the almost sublime architectural
views of Rufus when he built the famous hall, which Matthew Paris thus refers to,
in a very interesting passage, not often transcribed: ''•'In the same year," observes
the old chronicler, "King William, on returning from Normandy into England,
held, for the first time, his court in the New Hall at Westminster. Having
entered to inspect it, with a large military retinue, some persons remarked that
'it was too large,' and 'larger than it should have been;' the King replied that
'it was not half so large as it should have been, and that it was only a bed-chamher
in comparison with the building which he intended to make.' " Pretty well this,
in relation to the largest hall in Europe unsupported by pillars ! '' Panting Art''
would, we fear, however, in any age, ''toil after" such a monarch "in vain;" and
Mr. Barry will not succeed in making Westminster Hall shrink in comparison to
the dimensions of a bed-chamber ; sufficient will it be, if all around us, before
we enter, and all we find beyond after passing through it, be on such a scale as
to make the Hall appear but of natural dimensions : that will be a triumph that
may satisfy any reasonable ambition.
We now approach the great subject of decoration. Mr. Barry, it appears, pro-
poses that all the plain surfaces of the walls, that is the parts not concealed by
the paintings or the sculpture, be covered with suitable architectonic deco-
ration, or diapered enrichment in colour, occasionally heightened with gold, and
blended with armorial bearings, badges, cognizances, and other heraldic insignia,
emblazoned in their proper colours. The groined roofs of St. Stephen's Hall
and the Octagon Hall to be similarly decorated, with, occasionally, works of art
so interwoven with the diapered ground as not to disturb the architectural effect.
The flat ceilings to be formed into compartments by moulded ribs, and enriched
with carved heraldic and Tudor decorations, relieved by positive colours and
gilding, with occasional gold ground, also diapered, and further enriched with
legends and coloured heraldic devices. The screens, pillars, corbels, niches,
window-dressings — and in parts also the door -jambs and fire-places, which are
proposed to be of highly-polished British marbles — to be all decorated in the
same gorgeous style. The floors to be formed of encaustic tiles, similarly en-
riched in colours and heraldic emblazonry, and laid, in combination with British
marbles, in margins and compartments. The steps of the several staircases to be
of solid marble. Lastly, the walls, to the height of eight or ten feet, to be lined
with oak-framing, containing shields with armorial bearings, emblazoned in their
proper colours, with an oak seat in all cases running along the front of and
attached to the framing ; the windows to be doubly glazed, to temper the light
and prevent the direct rays of the sun from interfering with the due effect of the
splendour within — the outer glazing consisting of plain ground glass, the inner
of stained glass, richly blazoned with arms and other heraldic insignia, on a
136 LONDON.
diapered warm yellowish ground, the whole set in an ornamental design in metal.
Such are the proposed minor decorations of the new Houses ; the greater ones
will be those which the arts, in the loftiest sense of the word, shall spread over
every wall, or range — as in sculpture — through every avenue. And here we must
acknowledge there seems to us a great deal of room for improvement in the pro-
posed plans of decoration ; perhaps because there has not been sufficient oppor-
tunity for fairly maturing them. In order the better to explain our meaning, it
will be only necessary to notice the proposals for the four most important of those
parts of the building which alone admit of extensive artistical operations, namely,
the Victoria Gallery, the Central Hall, St. Stephen's Hall, and Westminster
Hall. The gallery will admit, it appears, of sixteen paintings, each about twelve
feet long by ten high, for which the chief subjects proposed are the most remark-
able royal pageants of British history. Statues of Her present Majesty may fill
each of the central niches at the ends of the hall, whilst the other niches, with
the pedestals between the pictures, may receive statues of Her Majesty's an-
cestors. The statues to be of bronze, either partially or entirely gilt. The
Central Hall cannot, from its form and divisions, receive any paintings, but may
be extensively decorated with sculpture; as, in the centre, of a statue of Her
Majesty, upon a rich pedestal of British marble, highly polished, and relieved in
parts by gold and colour ; whilst the statues in the niches of the walls and screens
may represent, in chronological order. Her Majesty's ancestors, from the Hept-
archy. In front of the eight clustered pillars in the angles of the hall, sedent
statues of some of the great lawgivers of antiquity. The paintings of St. Ste-
phen's Hall it is proposed to make commemorative of great domestic events in
British history, whilst the statues may represent celebrated statesmen, past, pre-
sent, and future. In addition to these works, the upper portion of the hall will
contain thirty niches, which may be filled with the statues of the eminent men of
the naval, military, and civil services of the country. Lastly, Westminster Hall,
with its spaces on the walls for some twenty-eight pictures, of the largest dimen-
sions, its twenty-six statues on pedestals between them, and its proposed avenue
through the central space, of additional statues, twenty in number, is devoted in
the plan to the representation, in the first case, of the most splendid warlike
achievements of English history, both by sea and land ; in the second, to the
commemoration of naval and military commanders ; and in the third, to the similar
commemoration of present and future statesmen whose services may be con-
sidered by Parliament to merit such a tribute to their memories. The dormer
windows in the matchless timber roof are at the same time to be enlarged, in
order that, while showing the latter to better advantage, sufficient light may be
obtained for the due effect of the works of art. As to the idea of making the
hall a depository, as in former times, of the trophies obtained in wars with foreign
nations, we would humbly suggest that the times are past for such displays,
which can answer no other purpose than that of fostering the evil passions and
prejudices which are the true basis of war ; and as there seems to be a mistake
with regard to the fact alleged, the hall having never been so used before the
reign of Anne, the worst possible time for obtaining precedents in matters of
taste, we do hope we shall hear no more of tattered flags or rust-eaten weapons.
Art may give us battle-fields, but then it will assuredly, if it be art, raise us into
WESTMINSTER HALL AND THE NEW HOUSES OF PARLLA.MENT. 137
! loftier region than the mere scene represents ; the flag is a memento of the
truggle, the bloodshed, the victory— nothing more. The one, if it does descend
rem the calm and serene regions that it best loves, Avill do so to raise us up; the
. ither can have no effect in these solemn halls of legislature but to lower the tone
If thought and feeling when elevated to its highest pitch by the combined
Influences of architecture, painting, and sculpture in their loftiest developments.
1 I The chief objections we would venture to urge to these proposals for the arrange-
laent of the paintings and the sculpture, are as follows : — First, there seems to
be no one grand and harmonious idea pervading the whole, of which the diff'erent
)arts of the structure shall be each, to a certain point, a development; and
econdly, the plan, as it is, would seem to imply that ours, whilst a very fair,
respectable old country on the whole^ and especially remarkable for sovereigns and
lieraldry, had yet very little history to boast of, or at least, very few great men,
jvhich is coming to the same thing, as they make history. How else are the
Itriking repetitions to be accounted for ? Two series of kings before the Conquest,
find one since, on the exterior; then the same thing again, in part, at least, in the
l^ictoria Gallery, and yet again in the Central Hall ; then, as to statues of Her
jyiajesty — one on the exterior, two in the Victoria Gallery, one in the middle of
he Central Hall. As to the minor decorations, heraldic arms and insignia will
neet us everywhere — floor, walls, roofs, windows; surely, it would give even
greater eff'ectto the decorations of this kind that are chosen (a meaning being
ittached to every one of them that shall be worthy the pausing to find out), if
hey were fewer; whilst it would be in every sense better if the subjects or
vorks of art '' so interwoven with the diapered ground as not to disturb the
larmony or the effect of the architectonic decorations, or interfere with the
3lementary features of the architectural composition," should come upon us more
:han "occasionally'* among these minor decorations. Or how, again, but on the
hypothesis suggested, are we to account for the truly magnificent Victoria Gallery
being devoted chiefly to mere royal pageants? But, thirdly, there is even a
jpositive confusion of arrangement of the subjects : to say nothing of the statues
bf the lawgivers of antiquity, sitting in close juxta-position with such monarchs as
jEdward II. and Henry VIII., the inevitable result of the series system, we are to
Ifind in Westminster Hall, along the walls, pictures of naval and military achieve-
ments, with statues of naval and military men; very well : is not the Hall large
enough, but that the niches in St. Stephen's must be again devoted to them, with
a sprinkling of eminent civilians? On the other hand, has not St. Stephen's ample
accommodation for all our *' celebrated statesmen — past, present, and future," but
that a double line of offshoots must press into the Hall of Rufus ? If not, we
can only say they must come very thick and fast in the said future, before the
whole forty-two niches will be occupied.
It would be presumption in us, thus lightly scanning the subject, to attempt to
; answer the question of what ought to be done. But every suggestion that can be
Ithrown out at the present time may, if not useful in itself, be the humble means
'of developing others that are; and in consequence, we venture to submit a few
remarks. It appears, then, to the writer, that our first object in such an inquiry
should be to discover some principle, inherent in the building itself or in its
associations, that shall afford, when lQol^e4 at m a large spirit, ample scope for
138 LONDON.
illustrations, to be characterised throughout by their local fitness and universa
interest, by variety, and yet to be at the same time all so many harmonious
manifestations of that one principle. With public buildings it can seldom b
difficult to find such a principle. Their history — when they have history — ir
which, of course, their uses are included, would be one; or their uses only, wher
they had not. Apply this to the Houses of Parliament, and what a field is all
once opened. Their history is too rich for the artist to hope to escape som
uneasiness and anxiety as to the selection. Then, as to the local fitness, what, wel
may ask, would be the effect of making every hall and gallery and apartment tel
their own story — that story, at the same time, being one that England will neve
be tired of listening to ? But is it practicable ? A very moderate degree of dili
gence in the study of the history of the two Houses would, we think, show that it isJ
At all events, we can answer decidedly for the principal portions of the structure
Do we want pictures, for instance, for the Speaker's apartments ? Here is but oncl
of many waiting for the touch that shall describe them in more glowing languagi
than the pen can command. The walls of the old House of Commons are dimly
visible in the back ground ; the place is filled with the members in the highest!
state of excitement; Charles, the King, is in the front demanding the five!
who have offended him ; the Speaker, the chief figure, is on his knees, with a
mingled look of firmness and respect, uttering his memorable words, that he had
neither eyes to see, nor tongue to speak, in that place, but as the House was
pleased to direct him, whose servant he was there, and humbly begging pardon
that he could give no other answer. With such pictures, and with portraits (and
statues, if required) of such men, would we adorn the Speaker's apartments.
St. Stephen's Hall, as we have before had occasion to mention, occupies the exact
site of the old House of Commons — now, as the new houses present no opportunity
for the commemoration of the great events which have signalised the local history
of the Lords and Commons, what better alternative than to take the Hall for
that purpose ? The right wall v/e would appropriate to the history of the Lords'
House, the left to that of the Commons, as suggesting and harmonising with their
respective positions. And, passing from thence, where our thoughts might rest
undisturbed upon such memorials, what could be finer than the bustle, the reality,
the life of the very thing itself memorialised, the contrast of what was with what
is? It were idle to speak of individual subjects here. No reader but will at once
be able to recall many and mighty ones to his mind. Of course, they would be
arranged chronologically. Between the pictures, and everywhere corresponding
with them in point of time, if not even still more intimately, statues of all the more
eminent members of the Houses in past times would find their suitable home ;
orators, statesmen, patriots, philanthropists, philosophers; their order, and the
known design of the place resolving the different elements of so goodly a company
into perfect harmony. As the Octagon Hall lies midway between the Houses, ideas
connected with the Crown which the estates on either side may be said to support,
should determine the subjects for the chief statues, but ideas connected with it
entirely in its public capacity, and as more immediately relating to the business of
the legislature ; in short, we would have here the monarchs who have distinguished
themselves by their enlightened views and acts — legislative, governmental, legal,
constitutional, commercial, Conspicuous, here, should be seen Alfred. In the
WESTMINSTER HALL AND THE NEM^ HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. 139
em features of Edward I. we would here forget the ravager of Scotland and
Tales in remembering the services of the English Justinian. The smaller
atues in the niches might be happily filled with the servants of the Crown and
• the people, who have by their labours in the council, the closet, or on the
3nch, made memorable their names in connection with the same subjects. And, as
)ur chief legal reformers in the middle ages were the mailed barons, the statues
■ the men of Runnymede should not be absent. There remain, now, the two
rand approaches ; the one for royalty through the gallery, the one for the people
irough the old hall. They should, in consequence, without descending to repe-
tion, present a kind of fine uniformity of tone and feeling ; both should prepare
le mind generally for the better examination and study and enjoyment of all
at relates to the essential business of the Houses, which, according to the sug-
stions thus hastily made, would be more and more evident to the eye, as we
preached nearer and nearer; both also should have reference to those for whose
struction art pours forth its hoarded treasures of thought and feeling, of beauty,
andeur, and sublimity. Let, then, the Victoria Gallery be a royal gallery
t the Hall be the people's. Let the first be devoted to a grand chronological
ries of statues, as proposed by the architect, of all the sovereigns of England,
hilst the paintings, between and above, shall represent the great or noble
ents in which the sovereigns of England have been personally, as it were,
gaged (especially choosing subjects, where practicable, that mark excellence and
bility of personal character), and where nothing truly worthy of commemoration
this kind presents itself, then of the greatest events which signalised the reign.
ow many fine " morals" would not such a principle of choice and arrangement
point" to the most cursory observer ? It may be observed in passing, that
ere personal histories or incidents relating to our monarchs would find suit-
le place in the robing-room ; and battle-subjects, naval and military, would
e happily placed in the adjoining guard-room. Such might be the approach of
yalty. Westminster Hall demands more careful consideration, if it be only
at its own history and associations are too high and important to be at once
rown overboard, even for the development of a good principle. Fortunately,
ere is no need. That history furnishes, with something like chronological regu-
rity, a series of events from the very earliest time, bound up with its own walls
,nd roofs (and never mjay they be disunited), most of which are at the same time
mong the events of general history which artists are constantly selecting for
eir pencils on account of their universal interest. Were it only for the sake
f the fine old hall, these, from the size of the pictures representing them, should
redominate, and form, indeed, a something as closely appertaining to the hall, as
s roof or its floor. But something still would be required. Here is the hall, with
ts glorious past history written on the walls ; but the history is not complete ; what
the hall nov/ ? — The people's approach to the imperial legislature : then let the
emainder of the paintings tell that part of the history too. As the Victoria
allery has honoured, wherever circumstances would permit, the sovereign, let
he hall honour all that history has shown to be peculiarly deserving of honour in
he people. This, like all the other parts of our subject, is a vast and almost
mexplored field ; but the principle indicated would, we think, guide in safety
trough it. One particular illustration we must mention ; we would include
140 LONDON.
illustrious individual examples of the virtues that adorn the citizen, or that endea;
and elevate the social life. The statues round the walls should be but additiona
manifestations of the two principles of arrangement — the history of the hall anc
the history of the people. What remains ? The central space is yet unfilled. W(
scarcely mention the words before we fear we are anticipated in the idea of the us(
to which we would devote it. Legislation^ law, government, can doubtless influ
ence^ to some degree, the characters and happiness of the people, but are them
selves too much a mere reflex of the people to do so to any very material extent
who are then the men who do mould and temper, soften and elevate, and so pre
pare the way for an advance in the only possible mode of advance, that is, b
general mental and moral improvement ? Who, but the great poets, and philol
sophers, the men of science, art, and literature ? Here, then, midway, as it werej
between the outer world and the powers which rule it, is their place : could wj
desire a nobler or more fitting connection between the two ?
And now, quitting the subject of decoration, with a rapid notice of the histon
of the Hall we must conclude. It was built by Rufus in all probability for th
express use to which it was for a considerable period afterwards chiefly devoted
that of a grand banqueting hall for royalty, on occasions of high festivals, a
holydays and coronations ; for which last purpose it has only ceased to be usee
in our own time. In our account of Westminster, we have had occasion to speal
generally on the subject of the coronations of our kings, and the ensuing feasts
we shall only therefore now add an interesting incident from Holinshed, relatin^|
to a coronation, not long after the erection of the hall. Henry II., having obtaine(
the assent of a General Assembly of his subjects, met together at Windsor, causec
his son Henry to be crowned in his own life-time, and when the feast took plac<
in the great hall, a striking scene was presented. The old king himself, " upoi
that day, served his son at the table as sewer, bringing up the boar's head, wit!
trumpets before it, according to the manner. Whereupon, according to the ol(
adage
' Immutant mores homines cum dantur lionores,' —
the young man, conceiving a pride in his heart, beheld the standers-by with ;
more stately countenance than he had wont ; the Archbishop of York, who sat b;
him, marking his behaviour, turned unto him, and said, * Be glad, my good son
there is not another prince in the world that hath such a sewer at his table ;' t
this the new king answered, as it were disdainfully, thus : ' Why dost thou marve
at that ? my father, in doing it, thinketh it not more than becometh him ; he
being born of princely blood only on the mother's side, serveth me that am a kini
born, having both a king to my father and a queen to my mother !' " So inge
nious a youth could be at no loss under any circumstances to find reasons for wha
it pleased him to do. It is a pity we have not an equally accurate record of hi
notions as to the fitness of his subsequent and repeated appearance in arm
against his parent. Hospitality was a marked feature of the old English charac
ter, and no where did it appear on such a magnificent scale as in Westminste:
Hall, when royalty was the bounteous host. Henry III. seems to have especially
distinguished himself for his liberality. On the day of St. Edward (January 5th
1241-2), whom he held, it seems, in especial honour, he feasted sumptuously ai
innumerable multitude, among whom were the citizens of London, tempted hithe
WESTMINSTER HALL AND THE NEW HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. 141
y the extraordinary invitation of a royal edict which subjected them to a penalty
if one hundred shillings if they stayed away. The disturbed political aspect
if the time was the cause, we presume, of the very un-citizen-like reluctance
iere indicated. At another feast given by Henry, on account of the marriage of
is brother, Kichard, Earl of Cornwall, thirty thousand dishes were prepared for
he dinner. But the best of these feasts were the ones given by Henry to the
toor ; he is said to have had not only this but the little hall before mentioned,
lied with them, year after year, 01:1 the day of his saint. Another use to which
he hall was turned, and very naturally, on account of its size and imposing
nagnificence, was that of holding in it public assemblies of a very extraordinary
dnd, and subsequently of Parliaments, which sat here before the division
into two Houses, and where the Lords still continued to meet after. In
253, the Hall was the scene of an awful exhibition. The king we have
lust referred to had so often broken every promise made to his parliament
)f observing the charters, that when, in that year, he wanted money from it,
le could obtain his wishes only on the condition of a fresh and most solemn
confirmation of the public liberties. So on the 3rd of May, he met, in the
Hall, the barons, prelates, and abbots, the latter in full canonicals, and bearing
3ach a lighted taper. One was also offered to the king, who refused it, saying
he was no priest. The Archbishop of Canterbury then publicly denounced
excommunication against all who should infringe the charters; and amongst
part of the terrific ceremonies which took place, the prelates and abbots
threw their tapers on the ground, and exclaimed, as the lights disappeared
in smoke, ''May the soul of every one who incurs this sentence so stink
and be extinguished in hell!" The king, acknowledging the application of
the whole proceeding, subjoined, *' So help me God ! I will keep these charters
inviolate, as I am a man, as I am a Christian, as I am a knight, and as I am
a king crowned and anointed." The ceremony over, Henry speedily resorted
to his old habits ; the scene in the Hall became but a faded dream. Turn we
now to a public event of a more agreeable nature. After the famous entry
of the French King and the Black Prince into London, the procession passed on
to Westminster, where Edward III. sat on his throne in the Hall to receive his
august prisoner. One can hardly avoid something like a sentiment of affection
towards the memory of both father and son for their whole conduct in this
business, however little else in their characters there may be to inspire such sen-
timents in any but warlike spirits. As John entered the Hall, Edward descended
from his seat, embraced him, and led him with the greatest possible respect to
the banquet prepared. For some time the French King remained a guest in the
Palace, but subsequently the Savoy was prepared for him. There, as Polydore
Vergil informs us, he was frequently visited by Edward, his queen, his son, and
other members of the royal family, who strove by various means to soothe
his sorrow. Failing in their indirect endeavours, Edward and the Prince
begged him to lay aside his melancholy and derive consolation from cheerful
thoughts. The unhappy monarch answered in the words of the Psalmist, and
with a mournful smile, '' How shall we sing in a strange land ?" The reign of
Richard II. was in every way a noticeable one for the Hall. It was then rebuilt
essentially as we now see it, and the wonderful roof thrown across. The northern
142 LONDON.
front was then also first added. If any of the Norman work remained it was
cased up, and lost. The expense attending this rebuilding was defrayed, as the
original expense had been, by a tax upon foreigners. During the rebuilding,
Eichard built a temporary wooden house for the Parliament, which was open on
all sides, that constituents might see what v»'as going on ; and, as Pennant slyly
remarks, '' to secure freedom of debate, he surrounded the house with four thou
sand Cheshire archers, with bows bent, and arrows notched ready to shoot." This
was but the beginning of the end which the Hall was to be the scene of; it was
on the oOth of September, 1399, that the Parliament being assembled, the renun
elation of the crown by Richard II. was read and accepted by the Parliament, at
the close of which an anxious and deeply-interested observer stepped forward, and;
making the sign of the cross upon his breast, said aloud, " In the name of Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost, I, Henry of Lancaster, challenge this realm of England, and
the crown, with all the members and appurtenances, as that I am descended hyi
right line of the blood, coming from the good lord King Henry III. ; and through
the right that God, of his grace, hath sent me, with help of my kin and of my
friends, to recover it ; the which realm was in point to be undone for default of
governance, and undoing of good laws." Cries of " Long live Henry the Fourth"
no doubt greeted the claim. In Richard III. we have another claimer of thrones
out of the usual order of succession, and on the same spot. An amusing instance i
of his duplicity, or perhaps it may be called of his policy, for had matters gone
well with him we should probably have found he had something better in him
than cunning to make a governor, is preserved in Holinshed. Having assumed
the crown, he made an open proclamation that he put out of his mind all enmities,
and did pardon thus openly all offences committed against him. '' And to the intent
that he might show a proof thereof, he commanded that one Fog, whom he had long
deadly hated, should be brought there before him, who being brought out of the
Sanctuary (for thither he had fled in fear of him), in the sight of the people hei
took him by the hand. Which thing the common people rejoiced at and praised,
but wise men took it for a vanity."* The last important use to which the Halll
has been put, is that of State Trials, of which it boasts a truly memorable series.
Here, in 1535, the great Chancellor More was tried, and after sentence, and two
or three attempts to speak, which were prevented by his judges, electrified them
by his boldness in saying that what he had hitherto concealed, he would now
openly declare, that the oath of supremacy (in not taking which his guilt in
the king's eyes consisted) was utterly unlawful. As he moved from the bar, his
son rushed through the hall, fell on his knees and besought his blessing. Three
years later Henry himself presided at a trial, that of Lambert for heresy ; the
scene is represented in our engraving. With Lady Jane Grey's relatives,
the Duke of Norfolk, Strafford, and Charles L, continues the long list. A view
of the Hall, during this last-named tremendous event, is here given. Then we
have, beyond Charles's time, the trial and acquittal (rare occurrences here were
acquittals, and implying, when they did happen, the worst of political crimes,
according to some writers — namely, a most serious blunder) of the Seven Bishops
m James the Second's time; the trials of Balmerino and his gallant companions,
* Chronicles, vol. iii. p. 397. Transcribed from Britlon and Brayley.
I
WESTMINSTER HALL AND THE NEW HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. 143
TniAL OF Chakles I. From a Priut hi Nalson"s Report of tlie Trial, 1684.
A. The Kin?.
B. The Lord President Bradshaw.
i;- Sm".^^*c' JBradshaw'sAsiistauts.
D. William Say, i
E. Andrew Broughton, lr'i„,i,„ ^e ii.„ r-^,,..*.
F. John Phelps, l^'"^« ^^ ^^^« ^O'^^^*
G. Oliver Cromwell. iThe Arms of the Commonwealth
H. Henry
I. Coke,
H. Henry Marten.
over them.
K. Dorislaus, ^Counsellors for the Commonwealtli.
L. Aske,
le description of the original plate ends with these words :— " The pageant of this mock tribunal is thus represented to your view
by an eye and ear witness of what he saw and heard there."
[for their support of the same James's descendants; and, most recent of all the
[very important trials, that of Warren Hastings in 1778. Of the building we may
[add that it was new-fronted and largely repaired during the reign of George IV.,
land that within the last few years extensive reparations of the stone-work of the
linterior have been carried on. It is now, we believe, considered to be in as fine
a state of preservation in all essential respects, as the admirers of a building so
trebly rich in its age, architecture, and history, could desire. Many different
144
LONDON,
accounts have been given of the dimensions of the Hall, and, in consequence, ^,
hardly know what authority to trust to; Mr. Barry's, we presume, must be fr
high This :s considerably less than Pennant's, namely, 270 feet long by 74 fe<
broad ; he, however, may have included the depth of the walls ^
[lu-oiioi- of Westminster Hall, as s,en during the Trial of Lambert, before Iloury VIIIJ
J/^fl
[The Lord Mayor's Show, 1750, after Hogarth.]
CXXXV.— THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW.
f
tovE of sight-seeing was a characteristic feature in our forefathers^ and the
bmark made by Trinculo^ in ^ The Tempest/ that '^ when they will not give a
pit to a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian/' was a most
ruthful saying. This feeling generated the frequent display of pageantry on
ublic occasions; more particularly when the Mayor of London was installed in
is office — an event anciently commemorated with a degree of pomp of which
[pectators of a modern '^ Lord Mayor's Show " can form but little conception, and
^hich was intimately associated with the office in the eyes of the ancient citizens.
|?hese Ridings, as they were termed, occurred so often also on the public entries
lito London of our kings or their consorts, err of foreign potentates and ambassa-
prs, that they became matters of constant expectation with the gayer classes, and
rere ardently looked forward to by the City apprentices, as an excuse for a holi-
|ay. Chaucer, speaking of the gay apprentice, " Perkin Kevelour," says that —
" when there any riding was in Chepe
Out of the shoppe thider wold he lepe,
And till that he had all the sight yseen '
And danced well, he would not come agen."
l^he origin of these Eidings may be traced to the early part of the thirteenth
i:entury ; for when King John, in the year 1215, first granted a Mayor to the City
f London, it was stipulated that he should be presented, for approval, either to the
Sing or his justice. From this originated the procession to Westminster, where
|;he King's palace was situated ; and as the judges also sat there, it was necessary
VOL. YI. L
146 LONDON. j
for the citizens in either instance to repair thither, which they did annually, on
horseback. A water procession, however, came into vogue earlier than is gene-j
rally imagined; the accounts of the Grocers' Company for the year 1436 contain
items of expenditure for "hiring of barges"* for such water processions ninetecrj
years before the date of their supposed introduction by Sir John Norman, who is!
lauded by the City Laureate, Middleton, in his Pageant for 1621, called the
*• Sun in Aries,'* as "the first Lord Mayor that was rowed to Westminster, with
silver oars, at his own cost and charges." The Thames watermen, who found the
alteration of most essential service to them, gratefully recorded their sense of il
in a ballad, the only two existing lines of which are the often-quoted —
" Row thy boat, Norman,
Row to thy Leman." j
I
Although the old chroniclers have left us a pretty complete series of descrip |
tions of royal entertainments, and processions through the City,t we meet witll
nothing that will inform us of what the Lord Mayor's own pageantry consisted, aii
exhibited in his honour, on the day of his entrance upon the duties of his office!
until the year 1533, when the unfortunate Anne Boleyn came from Greenwich tc!
Westminster, on the day of her coronation ; the Mayor and citizens having beerj
invited by Henry to fetch Anne from Greenwich to the Tower, and " to see the
Citie ordered and garnished with pageauntes in places accustomed, for th(
honour of her Grace." Accordingly "there was a common counsail called, and
commandment was given to the Haberdashers (of which craft the Mayor, Siil
Stephen Peacock, then was), that they should prepare a barge for the Bachelorsj
with a wafter and a foyst J garnished with banners and streamers, likewise as thei^
use to do whe?i the Mayor is presented at Westminster, on the morrow after Simoi.
a?id Jnde. § Also all other crafts were commanded to prepare barges and tc
garnish them, not only with their accustomed banners and bannerets, but also tc
deck them with targets by the side of the barges, and to set up all such seeml)
banners and bannerets as they had in their halls, or could get, meet to furnisl
their barges, and each barge to have minstrelsy." Here, then, we are furnished
with a good idea of the annual civic procession by water to Westminster, in the
description given by Hall, of the barges of the Mayor ^and company. " First
* The City companies continued to hire barges for state occasions two centuries after this period. Tin
Grocers hired the last in 1636, when it was thought to be beneath the dignity of the company to appear in i
barge which was not their own, and accordingly the Wardens and some of the assistants were empowered to con-
tract for the construction of " a fair and large barge for the use of this Company ; and that they should take can
for the provision of a house and place for the safe keeping of the said barge."
f The earliest of these shows on record is the one described by Matthew Paris as taking place in 1236, cr
occasion of the passage of King Henry III. and Eleanor of Provence through the City to Westminster. They wert
received by the Mayor, Aldermen, and three hundred and sixty of the principal citizens, apparelled in robes oi
embroidered silk, and riding on horseback, each of them carrying in their hands a gold or silver cup, in token ol
the privilege claimed by the city, for the Mayor to officiate as chief butler at the king's coronation. Stow relates
that upon the return of Edward I. from his victory over the Scots in 1298, *• every citizen, according to their
several trades, made their several shoio, but especially the Fishmongers, who, in a solemn procession, passed
through the City, having, amongst other pageants and shows, four sturgeons gilt, carried on four horses, then foai
salmons of silver on four horses, and after them six and forty armed knights riding on horses made like luces
of the sea,' and then one representing St. Magnus (because it was St. Magnus's day), with a thousand horse-
men," &c.
X A barge or pinnace propelled by rowers.
6 The 29th of October, the regular Lord Mayor's day, luitil the alteration of the style in 1752.
THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW. 147
)efore the Mayor's barge was a foist or wafter full of ordnance, in which was a
;reat dragon continually moving and casting wild fire, and rounde about stood
errible monsters and wild men casting fire and making hideous noises;" this
essel served to clear the way for the Mayor's barge, which " was garnished with
nany goodly banners and streamers, and richly covered; in which barge were
'halmes, shagbushes, and divers other instruments, which continually made
goodly harmony. Next, after the Mayor followed his fellowship the Haber-
lashers, next after them the Mercers, then the Grocers, and so every company in
lis order; and last of all, the Mayors' and Sheriffs' officers, every company
laving melody in his barge by himself, and goodly garnished with banners, and
ome garnished with silk and some with arras and rich carpets; and in that order
hey rowed downward to Greenwich towne, and there cast anchor, making great
aelody."
Among the pageants exhibited upon land on the day of the Lord Mayor's
inauguration," one was generally introduced, if possible, in punning allusion to
he name of the Mayor. The earliest on record, of this kind, is described by
^jydgate, in his account of the recej)tion of Henry V. by the citizens of London,
>n his victorious return from Agincourt, in 1415, and which far surpassed in
plendour that of any of his predecessors. John Wells, of the Grocers' Compan}^,
v^as Mayor, and three wells running with wine were exhibited at the conduit in
])heapside, attended by three virgins to personate Mercy, Grace, and Pity, who
,^ave of the wine to all comers ; these wells were surrounded with trees laden
dth oranges, almonds, lemons, dates, &c. in allusion to his trade as a grocer. In
he same way Peele's Pageant of 1591, "Descensus Astrese," which was written
or the mayoralty of William Web, contained a similar allusion ; for '' in the
linder part of the pageant did sit a child, representing Nature^ holding in her
land a distaff, and spinning a weh, which passeth through the hand of Fortune,
ind is wheeled up by Time." In 1616, when Sir John Leman was Mayor, "a
emon-tree in full and ample form, richly laden with the fruit it beareth," was
exhibited; and to give it due importance, its fabulous virtues were enforced by
he five senses, who were seated around it, " because this tree is an admirable
)reserver of the senses in man ; restoring, comforting, and relieving any the least
lecay in them."
The earliest notices of pageants exhibited on Lord Mayor's day, hitherto
liscovered, are the entries from the Drapers' books, quoted by Herbert, in his
History of the Livery Companies,' where an entry for 13/. 4^. 7d. occurs for Sir
Laurence Aylmer's pageant, in 1510 ; and in 1540, the Pageant of the Assump-
;ion, which had figured in the annual show, at the setting of the Midsummer
vatch in 1521-2, appears to have been borne before the Mayor, from the Tower
;o Guildhall. When Sir William Draper was Mayor, in 1566-7, a pageant was
exhibited in which six boys were placed, who sang and pronounced speeches ; in
he procession appeared forty-six bachelors in gowns furred with foins,* and
ii'imson satin hoods ; twenty-eight whifflers, to clear the way ; forty-eight men
oearing wax torches an ell in length, and the same number armed with javelins.
* Folns batchelors and budge batchelors are frequently mentioned in all old accoimts of civic pageantry ; they
)btained their names from the furs with which their gowns were trimmed. Foins is the skin of the martin j budge
3 lamb-skin with the wool dressed outwards.
l2
148
LONDON.
Two "vvodemen" or savages carried clubs and hurled squibs, to clear the way for
the procession. They were constant precursors of pageants in the olden time, and
are frequently alluded to by the old dramatists and authors of popular literature •
and as late as 1686 "twenty savages or green-men walked with squibs and fire-
works to sweep the streets and keep off the crowd," before the principal pageant.
The representation here given of these wild-men with their clubs, and green-men
hurling their fire-works, are derived from Bate's ' Book of Fireworks' (1635),
and other contemporary sources.
-^ ---^B'-'^r:^,
William Smyth, '^ citizen and haberdasher, of London,' penned, for the benefit
of posterity, in the year 1555, 'A breffe Description of the Royall Citie of London,'
in which the best detailed account of the mayoralty-shows during the reign of the
Virgin Queen, is to be met with. The water procession consisted of the Mayor's
barge, wherein he sat with all the Aldermen, near which " goeth a shyppbote, of
the Queen's Majestie's, being trymmed up, and rigged like a shippe of war, with
dyvers peeces of ordinance, standards, pennons, and targets of the proper arms of
the sayd Mayor, the armes of the Cittie, of this Company," &c. before which goes
the barge of his own Company, with the bachelors' barge, " and so all the Com-
panies in London, in order, every one havinge their own proper barge, garnished
with the armes of their Company." On their return from Westminster they land
at Paul's Wharf, when the Mayor and Aldermen " take their horses, and in great
pompe passe through the greate street of the Citie, called Cheapside." The
procession is opened by "certain men apparelled like devils, and wylde men
with squibs." Then come standards, emblazoned with the armes of the City,
and the Mayor, drummers, fifers, and about "seventy or eighty poore men
marchinge two and two together, in blewe gownes, with redd sleeves, and capps,
every one bearing a pike and a targett, whereon is paynted the armes of all them
that have been Mayor, of the same Company that this new Mayor is of." These
are followed by other banner-banners, musicians and whifflers ; " then the Pageant
of Tryumph, rychly decked; whereuppon, by certayne figures and wry tinges
(partly touchyng the name of the sayd Mayor), some matter touching justice and
the office of a magistrate, is represented." Then come trumpeters, '' and certayne
THE LORD MAYORS SHOW.
149
/hifflers, in velvet cotes and chaynes of golde, with white staves in their hands,'*
p clear the way; followed by the Batchelors of the Mayor's Company, and ''the
j>aytes of the Citie in blewe gownes, redd sleeves and cappes, every one having
lis silver collar about his neck/' Afterwards come the Livery, and the great
ifficers of the City, followed by the Lord Mayor, attended by his sword and mace
learer, with whom rides the old Mayor. Behind them come the Aldermen, two
nd two together, the procession being closed by the two Sheriffs.
The Whifflers, who played so important a part in the Show, were young free-
len, who marched at the head of their proper companies, to clear the way.*
pouce says, in his ' Illustrations to Shakspere,' '' that the name is derived from
Mffle, a fife or small flute, the performers on which usually preceded armies or
)rocessions, and hence the name was ultimately applied to any one who went before
!, procession." Among the Collection of Prints and Title-pages formed by John
j3agford, and now placed in the British Museum, are two very curious ones, which
Ire here copied. They bear date, 1635, and represent a Whiffler, with his ''staff
ind chain," and the Lord Mayor's Hench-boy, as decorated for attendance, with
[Whiffler and Hench-boy. ]
I gold chain and a staff, having a bunch of flowers at top, secured by a lace hand-
kerchief tied in a knot round the stems, and flowing below. These Pages to the
Mayor derived their name, says Blackstone, from following the haunch of their
masters, and thence being called haunch-hoys or hench-boys. The reader will
remember the quarrel between Oberon and Titania, in the ' Midsummer Night's
Dream,' concerning the " little changeling boy " the King of Fairies wished to
make " his henchman."
* The Whifflers have long since passed away from the Mayoralty processions of London and have given place
to the New Police. They existed in Norwich until the passing of the Municipal Reform Act in 1832, which, *' at
one fell swoop," abolished them, and the usual procession on Guild-days. There were four in number who held
the office, which had continued in the family of one Whiffler (William Dewing) for more than two centuries ;
mention is made in Kemps " Nine Daies' Wonder" of their being employed when he danced into Norwich in
1599. That very ancient favourite of the people, a dragon, was also exhibited on the same occasion; he was
known as "Snap," from the movement of his jaws, which opened and shut continually as his head moved round
to the amusement of children, who threw half-pence in his mouth.
150 LONDON.
The earliest Pageant of which we possess a printed description was composed
by George Peele, the dramatist, for Sir Woolstone Dixie, in 1585. It consisted
of a group of children who personated London, Magnanimity, Loyalty, the
Country, the Thames, the Soldier, the Sailor, Science, and four Nymphs, who
each addressed the Mayor in a short speech, the pageant being fully descanted on
by '' one that rid on a luzern " or lynx, who concluded his explanatory speech
with an exhortation to the Mayor to keep the City carefully —
*' This lovely lady, rich and beautiful,
The jewel wherewithal your sovereign queen
Hath put your honour lovingly in trust,
That you may add to London's dignity,
And London's dignity may add to yours."
It was not uncommon to introduce allusions to passing events and circum-
stances, or even to religious opinions, in these annual Shows ; thus, in Peele's
Pageant for 1591, entitled '^Descensus," Astrese is intended for Queen Elizabeth,
who attends with her flock at the Fountain of Truth, beside which sits a friar,
named Superstition, who exclaims to Ignorance, a priest by his side —
" Stir, Priest, and with thy beads poison this spring ;
I tell thee all is baneful that I bring."
who answers —
" It is in vain : her eye keeps me in awe
Whose heart is purely fixed on the law,
The holy law ; and bootless we contend,
While this chaste nymph this fountain doth defend."
During the reign of James I. the display of pageantry on Lord Mayor's Day
considerably increased, both on land and water, for it was not uncommon to place
sea-chariots, with Neptune and other characters in them, upon the Thames, to
address the Mayor before going to Westminster. Middleton's Pageant, 'The
Triumphs of Truth,' 1613, describes ''five islands, artfully garnished with all
manner of Indian fruit-trees, drugges, spiceries and the like ; the middle island
having a faire castle, especially beautified," the whole intended as an emblem of
the Grocers' Company (of which body the Mayor was a member), their East
Indian trade, and recently- erected forts there. These islands, upon his return,
figure in the Show by land, being placed on wheels, and having one of the five
senses (personated by children), seated on each of them. The other pageants
exhibited on this occasion, and the various impersonations displayed, had all some
reference to morality and good government. Thus the first character who attends
at Baynard's Castle to receive the Mayor, on his return from Westminster, is
Truth's attendant Angel, accompanied by his champion. Zeal, who conduct him
to Paul's Chain, where they are met by Envy and Error in a triumj)hant chariot,
who propose to the Mayor, to —
" Join together both in state and triumph
And down with beggarly and friendless Virtue
That hath so long impoverish' d this fair city."
They are, however, put to flight for a time by Truth, who approaches in her
chariot, and conducts the Mayor to "London's Triumphant Mount" — the great
feature of the day's Show. It is veiled by a fog or mist, cast over it by Error's
THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW. 151
disciples — Barbarism, Ignorance, Impudence and Falsehood, four monsters with
clubs, who sit at each corner. At the command of Truth " the mists vanish and
give way; the cloud suddenly rises and changes into a bright spreading canopy,
stuck thick with stars, and beams of gold shooting forth round about it." In the
midst sits London attended by Religion, Liberality, Perfect Love, Knowledge
and Modesty ; Avhile at the back sit Chastity, Fame, Simplicity and Meekness.
After a speech from London " the whole Triumph moves in richest glory towards
the Cross, in Cheap," where Error again causes his mist to enshroud it, which is
again removed by Truth, a manoeuvre of the machinist which is frequently
repeated during the passage to Guildhall, and back to the service at St. Paul's;
where it was always customary for the Mayor to attend after dinner, going in
full procession with all the pageants ; and when service was over, he retired to
his own house, where farewell speeches were addressed to him, in this instance, by
London and Truth ; Zeal, at the command of the latter, finishing the day's Show
by shooting a flame at the chariot of Error, which sets it on fire, and all the beasts
that are joined to it.
Anthony Munday's Pamphlet for 1615, ^^ Metropolis Coronata — the Triumphs
of Ancient Drapery," in honour of Sir John Joiles, of the Drapers' Company,
describes two pageants on the Thames: Jason and Medea, in "a goodly Argoe,
rowed by divers comely eunuchs," and bearing the Golden Fleece ; the second
being a sea-chariot containing Neptune and Thamesis, together with Fitz-Alwin,
the first Lord Mayor, attended by eight '' royall virtues," each one bearing the
, arms of some famous member of the Drapers' Company. The first Show by land
being " a faire and beautifull ship, stiled by the Lord Mayor's name and called
Joell," filled with sailors, and attended by Neptune and the Thames. This is
followed by a Ram or ''Golden Fleece," the Drapers' crest, ''having on each
side a housewifely virgin sitting seriously employed in carding and spinning wool
for cloth." Then comes " the Chariot of Man's Life, displaying the World as a
Globe running on wheels, emblematic of the seven ages of man's Life; it is
drawn by two lions and two sea horses, and is guided by Time, as coachman to the
life of man. The principal pageant follows : London and her twelve daughters —
the twelve Companies, "foure goodly mounts" being raised as protections around
them, Avhich are — "Learned Religion, Militarie Discipline, Navigation and
Home-bred Husbandrie." Robin Hood, Friar Tuck, and his merry men all,
conclude the display with a jovial song in praise of their lives ; which is very
characteristic of Anthony Munday, who was a favourite ballad writer of the day.
The easy flow of the verses here selected bespeak a hand well practised in this
species of composition : —
" No man may compare with Robin Hood,
With Robin Hood, Scathlocke, and John ;
Their like was never, nor never will be.
If in case that they were gone.
They will not away from merry Sherwood,
In any place else to dwell ;
For there is neither city nor towne
That likes them half so well."
From this it will be seen that the pageants in general were so constructed as
152 ; LONDON.
allegorically to allude to the Mayor or his Company; to London, as the seat of
commerce, and to the riches procured by that means; to the duties of good
government and wise magistracy, and were varied occasionally by the introduction
of popular characters, such as that of Robin Hood and his attendants, in this
year's Show.
Munday's Pageant for the following'year was entitled *' Chrysalaneia, the Golden
Fishing, or Honor of Fishmongers, applauding the advancement of Mr. John
Leman," alderman, a member of that Company, who were at the expense of the
pageantry then displayed ; which was constructed as much as possible in their
honour. Thus the first show was " a very goodly and beautiful fishing busse,*
called the Fishmongers' Esperanza, or Hope of London," in which " fishermen
were seriously at labour, drawing up their nets laden with living fish, and
bestowing them bountifully upon the people." This pageant was followed by a
crowned dolphin, in allusion to the Mayor's arms and those of the Company ; and
" because it is a fish inclined much by nature to music, Arion, a famous musician
and poet, rideth on his back." The King of the Moors follows '^ gallantly
mounted on a golden leopard, he hurling gold and silver every way about him ;"
he is attended by six tributary kings on horseback in gilt armour, carrying each
one a dart, and ingots of gold and silver, in honour of the Fishmongers' combined
brethren the worthy Company of Goldsmiths. They are followed by the punning
pageant on the Mayor's name, ^' a lemon-tree in full and ample form," which has
before been alluded to.
The next device is a bower, adorned with the names and arms of all the mem-
bers of the Fishmongers' Company who have been Lord Mayors. Upon a tomb
within it lies the body of Sir William Walworth, who was a member of the Com-
pany, and of whose membership the Company were always proud. f It is attended
by five mounted knights, six trumpeters, and twenty-four halberdiers, '' with
watchet silke coats, having the Fishmongers' Arms on the breast. Sir William
Walworth's on the backe, and the Cittie's on the left arme, white hats and feathers,
and goodly halbards in their hands ;" London's Genius, a crowned angel with
golden wings, sits mounted by the bower, with an officer- at-arms bearing the
rebel's head on Walworth's dagger. Upon the Lord Mayor's arrival the Genius
strikes Walworth with his wand, who comes off the tomb and addresses the Mayor
and attendants, declaring that the sight of them
" Mooves tears of joy, and bids me call
God's benison light upon you all."
The last grand pageant, '^ memorizing London's great day of deliverance, and
the Fishmongers' fame for ever," in the death of Wat Tyler, is drawn by two
mermen ; and two mermaids, the supporters of the Company's arms. At the top
sits a victorious angel. King Richard the Second being seated on a throne beneath,
surrounded by impersonations of royal and kingly virtues.
* Busse, signifying a fishing-boat, is a word of German origin.
f Walworth and Wat Tyler were generally exhibited whenever a Mayor was elected from this body. As late as
1700, when Sir Thomas Abney was chosen, the ' Postboy' for October 31 tells us : — " On this occasion there
was in Cheapside five fine pageants, and a person rode before the cavalcade in armour, with a dagger in his hand,
representing Sir William Walworth, the head of the rebel Wat Tyler being carried on a pole before him. This
was the more remarkable, by reason that story lias not been before represented these forty years, none of the Fish-
mongers' Company happening to be Lord Mayor since."
THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW.
153
The Fishmongers' Company are in possession of a very curious drawing of this
day's pageantry, which has been fully described in Herbert's ''History of the
twelve great livery Companies of London/' vol. i., p. 209, and which agrees
pretty exactly with the above description ; from the inscriptions upon this draw-
ing it appears that the pageants remained "for an ornament in Fishmongers
Hall, except that in which Richard the Second figured, and which was too large
for that purpose ;" a note above the drawing says, '' therefore thenceforth if the
house will^have a pageant to beautify their hall, they must appoint fewer children
therein, and more beautify and set forth the same in workmanship." The
children here alluded to personated the virtues, and other emblematical characters
in the pageants, and were all gorgeously apparelled.
The incongruities occasionally displayed, which, in good truth, were as unlike
" angels' visits, few and far between," as possible, were amusingly satirized by
Shirley, in his ' Contention for Honour and Riches,' 1633, by Clod, a country-
man, who exclaims, " I am plain Clod ; I care not a bean-stalk for the best what
lack you * on you all — no, not the next day after Simon and Jude, when you go
a-feasting to Westminster, with your galley-foists and your pot-guns, to the very
terror of the paper whales ; when you land in shoals, and make the understanders
in Cheapside wonder to see ships swim upon men's shoulders ; when the fencers
flourish and make the King's liege people fall down and worship the devil and
St. Dunstan;t when your whifflers are hanged in chains, and Hercules' club spits
iire about the pageants, though the poor children catch cold, that show like
painted cloth, and are only kept alive with sugar plums; with whom, when the
word is given, you march to Guildhall, with every man his spoon in his pocket,
where you look upon the giants and feed like Saracens, till you have no stomach
to Paul's in the afternoon. I have seen your processions and heard your lions
and camels make speeches instead of grace before and after dinner. I have
heard songs, too, or something like 'em ; but the porters have had the burden,
who were kept sober at the City charge two days before, to keep time and tune
with their feet ; for, brag what you will of your charge, all your pomp lies upon
their back. "J
From 1639 to 1655 no pageants were exhibited; the unhappy civil wars of
England broke out, and the City became one of the strongholds of Puritanism.
* The constant cry of the shopkeepers to their passing customers, and which was sneeringly applied to tlie
citizens. In 1628, Alexander Gill was brought before the Council for saying, among other things, that the king
was only fit to stand in a shop and cry, What do you lack ?
f This was the patron saint of the Goldsmiths' Company ; and when any of that body happened to be Mayor,
he was displayed seated in the laboratory in full pontificals, and the old legend of his seizing tlie devil by the
nose with red-hot tongs, when the arch-enemy came to tempt him while he was working as a goldsmith, was
re-enacted to the life for the amusement of the spectators. In the pageant for 1687 he talks remarkably large,
and promises his patronage to the company with boundless liberality, while the Cham of Tartary and the Grand
Sultan crouch at his feet as he exclaims —
" Of the proud Cham I scorn to be afeard ;
I'll take the angry Sultan by the beard.
Nay, should the Devil intrude among your foes — ■"
At which words the father of all evil rushes in, in no good humour, and loudly asks,
« What then ?"
To which the holy father responds —
" Snap — thus I have him by the nose!*'
which he at once seizes sans ceremonie.
X An allusion to the custom of hiring porters to carry the pageants.
154 LONDON.
Isaac Pennington^ who was Ma} or in 1643, rendered himself cmincnlly conspi-
cuous by "the godly thorough reformation" he practised in the City. At his
orders Cheapside Cross was demolished, and St. PauVs desecrated : a wit of the
day sticking a bill to this effect upon the door : —
" This house is to be let,
It is both wide and fair ;
If you would know the price of it,
Pray ask of Mr. Mayor"*
During the mayoralty of Sir John Dethick, in 1655, the first restoration of
pageantry took place; for on the day of his inauguration he exhibited the usual
realization of the arms of the Mercers* Company, of which he was a member —
the crowned Virgin, who rode in the procession with much state and solemnity.
The number of pageants yearly exhibited continued gradually to increase until
1660, the year of the Restoration of Charles II., when the Royal Oak was exhi-
bited as the principal feature of the day's display, and gave title to Tatham's
descriptive pamphlet ; after which period they gradually increased the splendour
and importance of the Shows, which contained many allusions to the blessings of
the Restoration and the virtues of Charles II., in contradistinction to the days of
Oliver. Thus, in the Pageant for 1661, Justice inveighs against —
" The horrid and abominable crimes
Of the late dissolute licentious times" —
and in proportion as Charles increased in open libertinism and unmasked tyranny,
just in the same degree do the City laureates ascend in the scale of praise, until,
in 1682, at a time when the breach between Charles and the citizens was daily
widening, the Charter of the City was suspended, and the pliant creatures of his
own party only allowed office as Mayor, the walls of Guildhall echoed to a song
in which his Majesty was described as a person —
" In whom all the graces are jointly combined
Whom God as a pattern has set to mankind."
From 1664 to 1671, the'great firef and the plague also, hindered the ordinary
exhibition of pageantry, which generally consisted of two or three pageants on the j
water, one of which was, generally, Neptune and Amphitrite, the Thames and
attendants, or the Story of the Voyage for the Golden Fleece, which pageants were
brought to land, and swelled the procession to Guildhall. There is a curious
series of wood-cuts, by Jeghers of Antwerp, representing the pageants there
exhibited on great state occasions, by the various guilds, and which may have
given our citizens a few ideas for their own : one of them is precisely similar to
the Triumph of Neptune, as exhibited in London, bearing the same name, and
agreeing in all points with the description published by the City poets ; it is
here copied, and is curious inasmuch as it exhibits the mode adopted for hiding
the machinery and movers of the pageant, and for obviating as much as possible
* After the Restoration, Pennington was tried with twenty- eight others as regicides, was convicted of high
(reason, and died during his confinement in the ToAver of London.
f This calamity was the excuse for omitting the usual religious observances of the day. Jordan, in his
Pageant for 1672, tells us that the Mayor was now always conducted home from the hall *' without that trouble-
some night-ceremony which hath been formerly, when St. Paul's church was standing."
I
THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW.
155
[The Triumph of Neptune.]
the absurdity of water Triumphs swimming through the streets, by coverino- the
lower portion down to the ground with cloths painted to represent water, and fishes
swimming therein, having two windows in front for the men withinside to direct
its motions, amid the crowd.
It would be impossible in the space we have at disposal to give but a mere
mention of all the various pageants exhibited until their final discontinuance in
1702. Many displayed considerable invention and mechanical ingenuity, which
involved great expenditure; thus the Pageant for 1617 cost more than 800/.,
but they continued to diminish in cost; in 1685, 473/. was the outlay. Each
company generally contributed its trade pageant on the mayoralty of a member ;
thus the Goldsmiths exhibited a laboratory with their patron. Saint Dunstan, who
gratified the mob by seizing the Devil by the nose with his tongs the moment he
answered the Saint's challenge to appear at his peril. The Drapers gave the
Shepherds and Shepherdesses with their lambs; carolling in praise of country life,
and dancing beneath the greenwood ; while the Grocers generally exhibited a
King of the Moors, an island of Spices, and mounted Blacks, who liberally dis-
tributed foreign fruit from panniers at their side to the crowding spectators.* In
the Pageant for 1672, two great Giants, each 15 feet high, were '' drawn by horses
in two several chariots, moving, talking, and taking tobacco as they ride along.'*
The pageant produced for Sir William Hooker, of the Grocers' Company, in
the year 1673, was concocted by Thomas Jordan, the most facetious of city poets.
* Among the expenses of the Pageant for 1617 we find, "Payed for 50 sugar-loaves, 36 lbs. of nutmeo-s,
24 lbs. of dates, and 1 14 lbs. of ginger, which were thrown about the streets by those which sat on the griffins and
camells — 5/. 75. 8d.
156
LONDON.
who had formerly been an actor at the Red Bull Theatre. In the first pageant
appeared a negro boy, " beautifully black/' as he declares him to have been,
who was seated on a camel, between two silver panniers, strewing fruits among
the people as before. In the car behind sat Pallas, Astrea, Prudence, Fortitude,
Law, Piety, Government, &c. : Pallas exclaiming,
" How can a good design "be brought about
In mask or show if Pallas be left out?
Which makes me in my chariot of state
Present my love to London's magistrate,
And that Society of which he 's free,
The King-bless'd loyal Grocers' Company." *
The next pageant is drawn by two griffins, led by negroes, bearing banners ot
the city and company, and carrying Union and Courage at each corner. Behind
is the God of Riches, with ''Madam Pecunk-; a lady of great splendour," Repu-
tation, Securit}^ Confidence, Vigilance, and Wit ; Kiches declaring himself and
the rest to be fully at the mayor's service. A droll of Moors is next exhibited,
working in a garden of sj-ices, with musicians to lighten their labours with melody
not too refined for any ears, as it consists of " three pipers, which together with
the tongs, key, frying-pan, gridiron, and salt-box make very melodious music,
which the worse it is performed, the better is accepted.' Pomona from the midst
declares that she has
come to see
The celebration, and adore the state
Of Charles the Great, the Good, the Fortunate,'
Who from the royal fountain of his power
Gives life and strength to London's governour." f
A jovial song was composed in praise of the King and Queen who were present
on this occasion, and dined in Guildhall, in company with the Dukes of York and
Monmouth, Prince Rupert, the ambassadors and nobility ; the first and last verses
of the song ran as follows :
" Joy in the gates,
And peace in the States,
Of this City which so debonair is ;
Let the King's health go round,
The Queen's and the Duke's health be crown'd,
With my Lord and the Lady Mayoress.
" Divisions are base,
And of Lucifer's race ;
Civil wars from the bottom of hell come ;
Before ye doth stand
The plenty of the land,
And ray Lord Mayor doth bid ye welcome."
The concluding chorus to the entertainment being
" This land and this town have no cause to despair ;
No nation can tell us how happy we are,
* The Grocers' Company numbered some kings among their members.
f Charles II. visited the City on the two previous Lord Mayor's days, witiiessing the pageants in Cheapside,
and diuhig afterwards at Guildhall. He continued to visit the future Mayors for the four following years.
THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW. 157
When each person's fixt in his judicial chair,
At Whitehall the King, and at Guildhall the Mayor ;
Then let all joy and honour preserve with renown
The City, the Country, the Court, and the Crown."
But perhaps as quaint and curious imaginings were exhibited on the mayoralty
of Sir Francis Chaplin, of the Cloth-workers' Company, in 1677, as in any of their
Shows. They were also invented by Thomas Jordan, who produced, on this
occasion, a " Chariot of Fame," a *' Mount of Parnassus/' with Apollo and the
Muses, attired as shepherds and shepherdesses in honour of the Company, and
" the Temple of Fame," within which stood that venerable character, attended
by six persons, representing a Minute, an Hour, a Day, a Week, a Month, and
a Year ; thus habited, viz : —
"A Minute, a small person in a skie-coloured robe, painted all over with minute-
glasses of gold, a fair hair, and on it a coronet, the points tipped with bubbles ;
bearing a banner of the Virgin.*
''Next to her sitteth an Hour, a person of larger dimensions, in a sand-coloured
robe, painted with clocks, watches, and bells ; a golden mantle, a brown hair, a
coronet of dyals, with a large sun-dyal in front, over her brow ; in one hand a
golden bell, in the other a banner of the golden ram.f
"A Day, in a robe of aurora-colour ; on it a skie-coloured mantle, fringed with
gold and silver, a long curled black hair, with a coronet of one half silver, the
other black (intimating Day'and Night) ; in one hand a shield azure, charged with
a golden cock, and in the other a banner of the Cities.
'* Next unto her sitteth a virgin, for the personating of a Week, in a robe of seven
metals and colours, viz. or, argent, gules, azure, sable, vert, andpurpure ; a silver
mantle, a dark brown hair, on which is a golden coronet of seven points, on the tops
of which are seven round plates of silver, bearing these seven characters, written in
black, viz. : (z)]) $ ^%^%, which signifie the planets and the dayes ; in one hand
she beareth a clock, in the other a banner of the companies.
*'Next to her sitteth a lady of a larger size, representing a Month (of May), in
a green prunello silk robe, embroidered with various flowers, and on it a silver
mantle fringed with gold, a bright flaxen hair, a chaplet of May-flowers, a cornu-
copia in one hand, and a banner of the King's in the other.
" Contiguously (next to her) reposeth a very lovely lady representing a Year,
in a close-bodied silk garment down to the waist, and from the waist downward
to her knees hang round about her twelve labels or panes, with the distinct in-
scriptions of every month; wearing a belt or circle cross her, containing the twelve
signs of the zodiack ; a dark brown hair, and on it a globular cap (not much unlike
a turban), with several compassing lines, as on a globe ; in one hand she beareth
a target, argent, charged with a serpent vert, in a circular figure, with the tip of
his tail in his mouth ; in the other a banner of my Lord Mayor's."
The dissension that sprung up between Charles II. and the citizens, towards
the close of his reign, acted prejudicially to the annual civic displays. In 1681
Sir John Moore was elected in opposition to the citizens, being greatly favoured
by the court party. In the following year Charles again managed to get in ano-
* The arms of the Mercers' Company. f The crest of the Company of ClothworVers. '
158
LONDON.
ther of his creatures, in the person of Sir William Pritchard, who was so ill-
received by the livery-men that several of the Companies hesitated to accompany
him to Westminster. Moore had acted with great injustice toward the Sheriffs
Papillion and Dubois, who had been elected by a large majority of voters ; but,
being staunch lovers of the city rights and a Protestant succession, they were
forced from Guildhall by a body of soldiers, and North and Rich put in theii*
places. They, however, brought actions against the mayor, and upon Pritchard's
accession to power, and his persistance in keeping them out, they arrested him
publicly. The most extreme measures were adopted by Charles and the Court,
and a counter- action was got up against Papillion and his friends for a riot in
Guildhall, on the day of their election. The crown lawyers were eloquent against
them, and when juries could be easily found to convict a Russell and a Sydney, it
can excite but little surprise to find that Papillion was condemned to pay a fine of
10,000/., although not a shadow of proof was offered of any illegality on his part.
Jefferies was at this time rising in favour, by such *^ sharp practice,'* and in the
end the breach between the court and city widened, until Charles suspended the
charter, and he and his brother after him nominated mayors at pleasure."^ Among
the number who were heavily fined was the unfortunate Alderman Cornish, an
equally staunch defender of the city rights; he became thenceforward a marked
man, and during the reign of James II. he was arrested under a pretence of being
connected with the Duke of Monmouth's rebellion; his tried was hurried over,
he was convicted on perjured evidence by the infamous Jefferies, and hung a few
days afterwards at the top of King Street, Cheapside, with his face toward Guild-
hall (Oct. 23, 1685), his last devotions being rudely interrupted by the Sheriffs,
and his quarters set up on Guildhall.
Pageantry again revived during the reign of William III., but the spirit of the
old shows had departed, and the inventive genius of the City Laureates had fled
with it.
The last City Poet was Elkanah Settle ; he had been preceded by Peele, Mun-
day, Dekker, Middleton, Webster, and Hey wood, the dramatists ; John Taylor
the Water Poet, Tatham, Jordan, and Taubman. The last public exhibition by
a regular City Poet, was in 1702, on occasion of the Mayoralty of Sir Samuel Dash-
wood, of the Vintners' Company, and it was, perhaps, as costly as any. The
patron Saint of the Company (St. Martin) appeared, and divided his cloak among
the beggars, according to the ancient legend ; an Indian galeon rowed by Bac-
chanals, and containing Bacchus himself, was also exhibited ; together with the
Chariot of Ariadne; the Temple of St. Martin; a scene at a tavern entertain-
ment; and an "Arbour of Delight,*' where Silenus, Bacchus, and Satyrs were
carousing. Settle also prepared an entertainment for 1703, which was frus-
trated by the death of Prince George of Denmark, the husband of Queen Anne,
who died on the 28th of October, the day before its intended exhibition.
This last attempt at resuscitating the glories of the ancient Mayors, being so
unfortunately frustrated, and the taste for such displays not counterbalancing that
for economy, no effort was made to revive the annual pageantry, and the display
* In Strype's Stow, opposite the name of Sir John Shorter, Mayor in 1687, are placed these significant words :
—" Never served Sheiift; nor a freeman of the City i appointed by King Jame* II."
THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW.
159
! seems to have sunk to the level at which it has remained for more than a century ;
[the barges by water, or a single impersonation or two on land, being all that were
lexhibited.
Hogarth, in his concluding plate of the '' Industry and Idleness" series, has
[given us a vivid picture of the Lord Mayor's Day in the City, about the middle
of the last century, which has been copied at the head of this paper. Frederick
Prince of Wales, and his Princess, are depicted seated beneath a canopy at the
corner of Paternoster Row, to view the procession. Other spectators are accom-
modated on raised and enclosed seats beneath, the members of the various com-
panies having raised stands along Cheapside, that of the Mercers appearing in
the foreground, while every window and house-top is fdled with gazers, the streets
being guarded by the redoubtable City Militia, so humorously satirized by the
painter, and one of whom, anxious to honour the Mayor, discharges his gun, as
he turns his head aside, and shuts his eyes for fear of the consequences. The
Mayor's coach, with its mob of footmen, the City companies, the men in armour,
and the banners, present as perfect a picture as could be wished of this *' red-
[letter day" in the City.
In 1761, when King George III. and his Queen, in accordance with the usual
[custom, dined with the Mayor on the first Lord Mayor s Day of their reign, a re-
Ivival of the ancient pageants was suggested and partly carried out. Among the
City Companies, the Armourers, the Braziers, the Skinners, and Fishmongers
particularly distinguished themselves ; the former exhibited an Archer in a Car,
and a Man in Armour ; the Skinners were distinguished by seven of their company
[being dressed in fur, '' having their skins painted in the form of Indian princes;'*
[while the Fishmongers exhibited a statue of St. Peter, their patron saint, finely
[gilt; a dolphin, two mermaids, and two sea-horses.
Sir Gilbert Heathcote, in 1711, was the last Lord Mayor who rode in his
[mayoralty procession on horseback, since which time the Civic Sovereign has
always appeared in a coach, attended by his chaplains, and the sword and mace-
bearers, the former carrying the pearl sword presented to the City by Queen
Elizabeth upon opening the Royal Exchange ; the latter supporting the great
gold mace, given by Charles I. to the corporation. The present coach, which is
the most imposing feature of the modern show, was built in 1757, at a cost of
J1065Z. OS, Cipriani was the artist who decorated its panels with a series of paint-
lings, typical of the Virtues, &c., which may not unaptly be considered as the last
[relics of the ancient pageants that gave their living representatives on each Lord
JMayor's Day, to dole forth good advice to the Chief Magistrate of London.
Men in armour are the anticipated "sights" of our modern civic displays. The
[armour is generally borrowed from the Tower, or from the theatres. The
lumber of these " armed knights " varies at different times; in 1822, three of them
Iwere exhibited, with their attendant squires bearing their sword and shield,
[accompanied by banner-bearers and heralds. In 1825, five were exhibited, one in
[copper armour, one in brass scale armour, a third in brass chain mail, the other
two being armed in steel and brass. In 1837, the far more attractive novelty
[was something like a revival of the ancient pageantry, in two colossal figures,
[representing Gog and Magog, the giants of Guildhall ; each walked along by
160 LONDON.
means of a man withinside, who ever and anon turned their faces ; and, as the
figures were fourteen feet high, their features were on a level with the first-floor
windows. They were extremely well contrived, and appeared to call forth more
admiration than fell to the share of the other personages of the procession.
The armed knights and their attendants continued to be the staple ornament
of the shows until 1841, when Alderman Pirie exhibited that very ancient feature
of a Lord Mayor's Show — a ship, fully rigged and manned, which sailed up
Cheapside as '^'in days lang syne." It was a model of an East Indiaman of large
size, the yards filled with boys from the naval schools, and it was placed in a car
drawn by six horses ; and the attention it attracted would seem to warrant
the introduction of some feature in the dull common-place arrangements of the
procession, as usually exhibited; and which, considered as the public inauguration
of the Chief Magistrate of the first city of the world, is certainly capable of much
improvement.
I
I
[Statue of Theseus, tack view.]
CXXXVL— THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
lOOKiNG at the commencement only of schemes proposed for the benefit of the
ublic, the sanguineness of projectors has become a bye-word among us ; and
t must be acknowledged not without reason ; though at the same time the want
f that quality among their audience would, we suspect^ appear equally remark-
ble^ if we took a different point of sight, and looked backwards from the existing
rosperity of the many important establishments around us, through their pre-
ious history, even to the time when they too were but ^'schemes." We repeat,
t must be acknowledged, that projectors are often sanguine; but it is neither
ithout interest or instruction to note in how many instances their visions have
een, after all, but as shadows thrown before of the coming event, when com-
ared with the ultimately obtained reality. The British Museum, for example,
8 a striking case of this kind. Little, we may be sure, did the benevolent Sir
ans Sloane dream of this mighty establishment, when he, in effect, founded it,
)y directing in his will that his library of books and manuscripts, his collection of
latural history and works of art, should be offered to the Parliament after his
lecease for 20,000/., its cost having been not less than 50,000/. That collection
IS a whole was the marvel of his day ; what would be thought of it now were it
ieparate, w^e may judge from looking at the fate of its chief department, natural
listory, which, we are told by competent judges, has insensibly but materially
iiminished in its comparative value, as the science to which it belonged became
)etter known and appreciated. But, of course, it is not kept separate ; and Sir
VOL. VI. M
162 LONDON.
Hans, if he could revisit his collection in the interminable series of rooms, anc
the no less interminable series of cases in each room containing it, would be
assuredly — whilst bewildered and delighted with the amazing extent and variety
of the whole — not a little humiliated to see how small a portion of its essentia
value Avas derived immediately from him. Still less would the founder of th
Museum have anticipated that the books and manuscripts of which he was s(
proud should have swelled into that almost unfathomable ocean of literature
which we now call the Museum Library ; or that his few and not very valuabl
works of art, then forming a mere appendage to the department of natura
history, would be the germ of a grand school for English sculpture, where th
richest treasures of ancient Greece should be the daily text-books of a host o
students. Above all, although of course he, and his Parliamentary and othe
supporters, talked and thought about a people as the recipients of the benefits t(
be conferred by the new establishment, it is impossible that, with a knowledg
of the tastes and education of the middle and poorer classes of the eighteent
century, they could have anticipated the future crowds among which one shouh
with difficulty make way through the Museum Halls; that, in short, the word-
people — could have meant with them what it now means with us, half a million o
more of general visitors to this single institution in the course of one year (1842)
and which, if the recent rate of increase be continued, will speedily be doubled
that half million, being too, exclusive of the 5672 student visitors to the Sculp
ture, the 8781 visitors to the Print Room, and of a still more important class o
visitors, those to the Reading Room, who, from less than 2000 in the year 181C
have increased to nearly 72,000 in the past year ! Contrast this fact with th
state of things when Robertson, the historian, thought an introduction to th
Reading Room so important a favour, as to demand grateful mention of the frien(
through whose agency it was accomplished. The growth, indeed, of the Britis]
Museum, and of the ideas of the uses to which it might be directed, and, as
natural consequence, of the multitudes who now come hither for study or enjoy
ment, are among the most significant and satisfactory signs of the times : the]
mark a great era of social change and improvement, which, of course. Sir Ham
and those who carried out his plans, could not be expected to see, but which the
have, however, unconsciously greatly contributed to promote. For the gooi
aimed at, and the still greater good achieved, let us not forget then to honoui
the name of Sloane ; although the authorities, relying perhaps upon the feelinj
which made Brutus only the more thought of, because his statue was not wher
it ought to have been, seem to have considered it unnecessary, as yet, to ere
the statue of their founder, where one naturally looks to find it, in the Court o
in the Hall of the Museum.
Those among our readers who may yet have in store the pleasure of a firs
visit may form some kind of vague notion of the wealth of the Museum, froi)
the mere statements we have given of the numbers whom it annually attracts
but we think it may be safely affirmed that only personal and often repeatei
inspection, guided too by no inconsiderable amount of acquired knowledge an(
tastes, can give an adequate idea of this wondrous storehouse of objects brough
hither from all parts of the globe, at an expense that is literally incalculable
owing to the variety of modes by which they have been obtained, purchase, gifts
THE BRITISH MUSEUM. 163
requests, loans. From the period of the opening of the Museum, January 15,
759^ there has been a continual stream of additions to every department, some
)f which, individually, almost equal, whilst two certainly far exceed, the orioinal
alue of the entire repository. Such was the library of George III., o-iven by
lis successor, estimated to have cost 200,000^. ; such were the El^-in marbles
burchased in 1816 for 35,000/., but the true value of which can hardly be over-
listimated. In the present century, the building in which the collection was first
leposited was found unable to meet any longer the incessant demand for room —
loom ! and on the arrival of the Egyptian monuments, acquired by the capitula-
!ion of Alexandria, in 1801, and given by George III. the year after, it became
lecessary to consider how additions might be made. The Townley marbles and
he King's Library set this question at rest, by showing that a new building was
lecessary. Hence the works still in progress. Montague House, we may pause
moment to state, was built by Ralph Montague, Esq., afterwards Duke of
Montague, in the style of a French palace, though from the designs of an English-
'aan, the celebrated mathematician Hooke. The decorations, chiefly by French
Ttists (Pope's sprawling Verrio among them), were of the most sumptuous
haracter; and the mansion, on its completion, was esteemed the most magni-
icent private residence in the metropolis. This, however, was not exactly the
uilding purchased for the Museum, a fire having destroyed all but the walls
ti 1686. Not even a solitary countryman of the Duke was permitted to inter-
ere with the pile which was quickly restored, and, if possible, with en-
anced splendour, upon the burnt walls and foundations. Peter Puget
^as the architect : De la Fosse, Jacques Rousseau, and Baptiste Menoyer,
he foremost men in their time and country, in their several walks, were
he decorators; the first presiding over the ceilings, the second over the land-
capes and architectural paintings of the walls, whilst the third, emulous
pparently of the attributes of the floral goddess, scattered about him at every
tep a profusion of charming and gaily-hued flowers, wooing you by their beauty
Imost to try if they Avere not fragrant into the bargain. The Duke was no doubt
rich man, but the expenses of this double erection, the employment of French
rtists, and the fact that the owner had been twice ambassador to France, taken
connection with the political features of the time, suggested a notion which
ecame widely diffused that Louis XIV. himself undertook the office of treasurer
uring the rebuilding. It may not be true ; but the Duke knew, no doubt, that
ere was a capital precedent for any such transactions to be found in high
laces. This was the building subsequently purchased for 10,250/. from Lord
alifax, and which is now '"nodding to its fall," for as soon as the new works
all be completed, every vestige, we believe, of Montague House will rapidly
isappear. These new works may be briefly described as forming chiefly a vast
uadrangle, inclosing an inner court, extending about 500 feet from north to south,
[nd about 350 feet from east to west. As a slight indication of the interior
rangements it may be mentioned that the King's Library, a magnificent apart-
ent a hundred yards long, occupies the principal floor of the east side, with the
stern Zoological Gallery above it ; that the Reading Room and General Library
're on the north side, over which extend, side by side, the north Zoological
rallery and the North Gallery with its minerals and fossils; and that the
M 2
164
LONDON.
Egyptian Saloon, and the Grand Central Saloon (from which last branches off a
suite of apartments consisting of an ante-room and the Phigaleian and Elgin
Saloons) occupy the lower portions of the finished half of the western side, wit!
the Egyptian and the Etruscan Rooms above. In advance, on each side of th
main building or square, houses for the residence of the chief officers of th
establishment are in course of erection ; whilst, lastly, there is to be a gran
street-front to the pile, about 600 feet long, inclosing an outer court, throug
which we shall pass as at present to the entrance-doors of the Museum. Of thel
architectural character of any portions of the exterior it were unfair, perhaps, tc
judge from the specimen that is before us, the view of the buildings of the inner
court, as with regard to them it may have been thought unnecessary to aim a
any very lofty architectural effects ; yet one cannot but fancy so grand an oppor
tunity should have been turned to better purpose.
[Back of the New Entrance to the British Museum.]
Let us now enter, premising by the way that whilst there are few places oil
exhibition which should not be visited more than once, if worth visiting at all!
it is, as respects the British Museum, absolutely necessary not only to come again!
and again, but to pass through it on something like system, if we would avoidj
being confounded by the multiplicity of objects that surround us, or by the
essential differences that exist between the different departments. The best mode,
perhaps, is to go through the whole Museum at once on the first visit, in order
to understand its general arrangement, and to learn which portions of it will be ]
most interesting or valuable to us on our subsequent visits, when we can throw
I
THE BRITISH MUSEUM. 165
ourselves familiarly at once into whatever corner best pleases us, and there
examine and reflect, and compare and inquire, without troubling ourselves as to
what objects may be behind or before, satisfied that when we want them there in
their proper locality they will be. Most regular and easiest managed of house-
holds is this, with all its ranks of conquerors and warriors, civilized and barbarian ;
its herds of animals, from the giraffe down to the tiniest of four-footed animals;
its shoals of fish, and swarms of insects. Sesostris, or, as they call him here,
Rameses the Great, mightiest of statues of mightiest of monarchs, seems to look
even more benignly placid than ever in such an atmosphere ; the terrible-looking
gods of the New Zealanders seem to whisper that, grim and blood-stained as they
look for consistency's sake, they would not in reality hurt a hair of our heads ;
the very wild animals, looking so meek and domestic, would evidently roar gently,
like Bottom, if it were permitted to them in such an establishment to roar at all.
But, in truth, there is something strangely interesting in the general appearance
of such diversified assemblages and objects, and a fruitful fancy might find never-
ending occupation in twisting and untwisting the fantastic links of connection
that are continually presented to it. A somewhat less busy day than the present,
however, it must be acknowledged, is needful for such employment ; scarcely can
we pause a moment to look on the statues in the hall of the lady-sculptor, Mrs.
Darner, of Sir Joseph Banks, or of Roubiliac's fine Shakspere, or on the paintings
of the staircase, doomed, we fear, to quick destruction. Nay, if we do not press on
too, we shall be overwhelmed : seeing already, in imagination, the wonders of the
unexplored regions beyond, this party of young visitors from the country directly
behind us can see nothing else apparently. Their enthusiasm will wear out but
too speedily as they grow older ; let them then revel in its impulses now. And
mark as they sweep into the rooms where the curiosities from the lands which
have long been to them as full of romance as was ever Bagdad itself, the lands
which Cook, or Bruce, or Park, or Parry, or Franklin, or Ross have made as
familiar and as marvellous to them as are the scenes of that other favourite
voyager Sindbad's discoveries and exploits ; mark how, amid all their delight,
now suppressed from the impossibility of giving adequate expression to their
feelings, now bursting almost into a scream of pleasurable surprise at some unan-
ticipated marvel, mark how religiously careful they are to avoid injury to the
meanest article within their reach. But why should they iyyiire what they have
learnt to value and even to look upon as, in a measure, their own ? Youthful
admiration is of a somewhat wandering, insatiable character ; and presently the
strange dresses, and arms, and furniture, and ornaments, the hideous wooden
idols, and thousands of other articles, describable and indescribable, from the
Polar regions. New Zealand, or Mexico, are passed with a rapid step ; even
the poisoned arrows, and the carved bows, cannot detain them many
seconds, and the original Magna Charta there in the window they don't
understand; so the Mammalia Saloon next receives them ripe for fresh
wonders. And now how they run along from case to case, exchanging
exclamations with each other. There's the lion ! and Here's the hyena ! what
a running fire of names is kept up, of dogs, foxes, gluttons, bears, hedgehogs,
flying squirrels, opossums, antelopes, ant-eaters, and sloths ; and above all, when
the central spot is reached, where a whole herd of cattle and deer, some ^of the
166
LONDON.
last bigger than the first, are seen penned in on one side of the walk, and a
mighty giraffe peeping, as it were, out of the lofty skylight on the other, with an
enormous walrus, spreading its shapeless bulk along by its feet, there are no
bounds to the expressions of youthful amazement. That giraffe has determined
in their eyes the satisfactory character of the establishment ; the reputation of the
Museum is henceforth safe. In vain all this while they are told of the systems of
arrangement so admirable here ; in vain of distinctions of rapacious beasts and
hoofed beasts ; in vain of genera and kinds. But they have not yet arrived at
the portion which forms the greatest treat of the whole, the birds ; the ostriches,
the eagles, the vultures ; and by the time they do get to the long gallery, which
is full of them, from the gigantic emu down to the diminutive humming-bird,
they have, as it were, blunted the too eager appetite, and may be observed listen-
ing, with something like interest, to the remarks that drop from the sj)eakers
around, describing some trait, or relating some anecdote illustrative of the habits
or history of the birds before them. This boy here has been listening these last
ten minutes to the interesting account of the dodo, that bird once supposed to be
fabulous and still believed to be extinct, yet whose existence at no remote period
appears to be as unquestionable from the facts recorded, as from the existence of
a veritable foot, and head, still preserved, the first here, the second at Oxford : of
which head however there is a cast placed beside the foot. And the dodo may well
excite the surprise of even older and wiser heads than our young friends here, if
the curious painting at the back of the case represents it truly, as there is good
reason for presuming it does : the head and foot there, for instance, agree with the
head and foot we have referred to. The corroborative historical evidence is also
strong. Well, we see in that bird the colour and shortness of wing of the ostrich,
with the foot of the common fowl, and the head of the vulture ; a combination of
characteristics sufficient even to puzzle a Linnaeus or an Owen, and make it as
difficult for them to place the bird to which they belong in any theoretical system,
as the authorities of the Museum have found it to determine the proper position
in their practical one. But we must pass on, and we see our country juveniles
have not waited for us, but are by this time busy among the shells, far ahead.
We have already incidentally spoken of the excellence of the arrangements that
prevail throughout the Museum ; and cannot but pause a moment here to give
an illustration from the ornithological department. The system observed is that
of Temminck, whose generic names are in most cases adopted, with the specific
nam.es of Linnseus, and the English synonymes of Latham. Thus we have in
cases 1 to 35 the Raptorial birds : vultures, eagles, falcons, buzzards, kites ; the
last five being confined to the nocturnal birds of the division, such as the owls of
different kinds ; in cases 36 to 83 we have the Perching birds, subdivided into the
wide gaped, as the goat-suckers and swallows ; the tenuirostral, as the honey-
eaters and Avheat-ears ; the conirostral, including the crows and finches ; and the
scansorial, as the parrots and woodpeckers : to these, in cases 84 to 106, succeed
the Gallinaceous birds : pigeons, turtles, pheasants, partridges ; in cases 107 to
134 the Wading, comprising the ostriches, trumpeters, storks; and lastly, in
cases 135 to 166 the Web -footed, as the flamingos, swans, and ducks. An extensive
series of cases of eggs of birds, ranged to correspond with the cases of the birds
themselves, and placed opposite them, gives completeness to the whole. All
THE BRITISH MUSEUM. 167
the other departments of natural history are illustrated in the same simple but
scientific manner. And with this remark we must pass rapidly by the shells, with
their elegant and diversified forms, their transparent surfaces and fairy-like hues,
though not without a glance at the ** glory of the sea," and the no less glory of
the collectors who are fortunate enough to get hold of the precious thing, and at
the Iris wave shell, which gives out when wetted brilliant prismatic reflections,
and above all at the little nautilus shelly of which Pope sings, and — fiction though
the idea contained in the lines is alleged to be — shall continue to sing to us —
*' Learn from the little Nautilus to sail,
: Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale."
Neither must we dwell upon the Portraits, one hundred and sixteen in number,
which line the walls of this gallery, longer than will suflfice to mention the mere
names of a few of the most interesting, as the two portraits of Cromwell in armour,
one of them painted by Walker, and given by the great Protector himself to
Nathaniel Rich, then a colonel of horse in the Parliamentary army; a Queen of
Scots, byJansen; her obdurate sister-Queen of England, Elizabeth, by Zuc-
chero; Charles IL, by Lely; Peter the Great, and Charles XII.; Vesalius, by
Sir Antonio More ; and Britton, the small-coal man. There is also here a land-
scape, by Wilson. The Northern Zoological Gallery is devoted chiefly to Heptiles,
preserved dry or in spirits, as the lizards, serpents, tortoises, crocodiles ; to the
Handed beasts, comprising the apes and monkeys; to the Glirine mammalia,
under which scientific denomination we are to look for rats and mice, porcupines,
hares, and squirrels ; and to the Spiny-rayed and anomalous fish. Insects ; Crus-
tacea, including such animals as the crab and the lobster; corals, star-fish, and
sponges are the chief contents of the tables that extend along the floor of the same
gallery ; whilst over the cases against the walls, containing the animals and fishes,
are ranged the larger fish which could not be accommodated within, such as the
famous flying sword-fish, sturgeon, and conger. In no department probably is the
Museum richer than in its Minerals ; the Collection is already superior to any in
Europe, and is daily increasing. We can only notice two or three features of it,
such as the beautiful specimen of branched native silver, the sculptured tortoise
in the centre of the room, brought from the banks of the Jumna, near Allahabad,
in Hindostan, and the famous stone used by Dr. Dee and his assistant Kelly,
during their communications with spirits, and in which stone the angels Gabriel
and Raphael appeared at the call of the enchanters. Hence Butler's lines —
" Kelly did all his feats upon
The devil's looking-glass— a stone."
A rich collection of Fossils lines the walls of this gallery, which of itself would
form materials for a pleasant volume ; but a something infinitely more attractive,
the sculptures of Egypt, and Greece, and of Rome are before us, and demand
every line of our yet available space. Before, however, descending to the saloons
below, containing the sculptures, there are two rooms that should be visited, not
merely for their great intrinsic interest, but as furnishing a valuable preparative
for the due appreciation of the first series of sculptures, the Egyptian ; we allude
to the Egyptian room and the Etruscan room, the latter containing a rich collec-
tion of vases, the former, every conceivable variety of article relating to the
168
LONDON.
domestic life, religion, manners and customs, and funereal ceremonies of the people
of Effvpt. The amazing extent of this collection may be judged from the mere
fact that the enumeration of the different objects, with the briefest possible de-
scription attached, occupies forty closely-printed pages of the Museum catalogue.
Ancient Egypt here revives before us — Osiris and Isis are no longer mere
names, we behold them face to face, as their worshippers beheld them ; who are
here also represented, and that so numerously in their mummies and mummy
cases, and who look so life-like from out their portraits upon us, that one is half
tempted to question them ; and many a knotty riddle could no doubt be solved if
the humblest of them would but speak. Yes, here are the very people of Egypt
themselves ; we see the expression of their faces, the colour of their hair, the out-
lines of their form ; we know their very names^ and their professions ; this, for in-
stance, is Otaineb, no Egyptian born, but one, no doubt, by naturalization, as
the gods of the country are exhibited on the case taking especial care of him ;
Thoth, the Egyptian Mercur}^ is there seen introducing him to the many deities
[Mummy Case, or Coffin of Otaincb.]
THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
169
to whom the different parts of his body are respectively dedicated. This again is
Hor, or Horus, incense-bearer to the abode of Noum-ra ; this, Onkhhape, a
sacred musician ; this, Khonsaouonkh, a sacerdotal functionary and scribe; this,
Kotbi, a priestess of the Theban temple of Amoun ; that, Har-sont-ioft, a priest
of the same building. From hence we descend a staircase to the Egyptian
Saloon, passing midway the unrolled papyri, on the walls of a small vestibule
leading to the Print room, which is famous through the European circles of artists
and collectors, for its Drawings and Prints of the Flemish and Dutch schools, and
which may be considered wealthy in most departments. The arrangements of this
part of the building are, it appears to us, remarkably happy. The mind brought
into a fit state by the contemplation of the miscellaneous antiquities of Egypt, —
we step into the saloon, and find ourselves suddenly introduced into a strange
and primeval looking world of art, peopled by gigantic statues, and still more
gigantic parts of statues; a studio such as the Titans might have revelled in, had
any of them ever turned artists. And finely, most finely, does the aspect of the
place harmonise with its essential history. It is what it appears ; the broken and
scattered portions of the mighty foundation upon which the subsequent schools of
Greece and Rome were built up, and by means of which the sculptors of those coun-
tries raised the Greek and Roman names to their highest points of permanent glory :
for what are the other glories of those nations now ? who would willingly exchange
the possession of a Theseus in our museums, for the record of the mightiest
of Grecian conquests in our books ? who would not willingly, if it were possible,
give back to oblivion the whole of the Roman victories, if oblivion would teach
us in return where to find some of the many great works of art belonging to that
country, and mentioned in ancient writers, which have been lost? But, to return,
the sculptures in the Egyptian Saloon are scarcely less valuable in themselves
than in their connection with artistical history. Is there not something inex-
pressibly beautiful in this head of Sesostris (the young Memnon, as it was
formerly but incorrectly called) in spite of the disadvantages attending the
conventionalisms of art at the period of its execution ? Here are thick lips,
projecting eyes, rounded nose, besides other less striking deviations from
the loftiest standard of human beauty ; yet such was the power of the artist
that he has made them as naught ; he has, in spite of them, left to remotest
posterity on that enormous block of hard stone, so hard that our finest tem-
pered tools can hardly make any impression upon it, an evidence of genius,
that may rival, all things considered, the loftiest of succeeding ages. This work,
the most precious of Egyptian remains, was found among the ruins of the Mem-
nonium at Thebes, and brought from thence to the Nile by Belzoni, who gives a
very interesting account of the diflficulties of his task, having no other imple-
ments than '' fourteen poles, eight of which were employed in making a sort of
car to lay the bust on, four ropes of palm leaves, and four rollers, without tackle
of any sort," no other assistants than a few ignorant Arabs ; and having, in addi-
tion, to contend with the intrigues of the local governor, and of the French con-
sul, and the fright of the boat-owner, lest his vessel should be sunk. The bust,
which is above eight feet high, formed part of a sitting statue, about twenty-four
feet high.
Among the multiplicity of other important works in the Egyptian Saloon, we
170
LONDON.
[Side View of the bust of Rameses the Great.]
may particularly direct attention to the colossal seated statue of Amenoph III.,
from the Temple of Memnon ; the sarcophagi of different forms, some sculptured
and one painted ; the numerous statues of Bubastis, the Egyptian Diana, having
the head of an animal upon a human body ; the colossal lions ; and the Rosetta
stone, containing three inscriptions of the same import, one in hieroglyphics,
another in the ancient vernacular language of Egypt, and another in the Greek,
recording the services of Ptolemy V., and which were engraved by order of the
high priests, assembled at Memphis to invest him with the royal prerogative.
Facing us, in the centre of the Grand Saloon, are some of the newly-obtained
Xanthian marbles, also most appropriately placed midway between the Egyptian
Saloon and the saloons and apartments containing the Phigalian, Elgin, and
Townley marbles ; for whilst these last exhibit Grecian art in its perfection, the
first show that same art in its earlier stages, struggling, as it were, for emanci-
pation from Egyptian bondage ; we see in them a certain stiffness and precision
that serves to remind us of the country of the Nile, from which most probably those
THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
171
qualities were derived ; but we also see in them the true Greek feeling and
touch which in later times were to give us such sculptures as those of the Par-
thenon, such statues as the Apollo, or the Venus '^hat enchants the world," or,
we may add, such exquisite works as those by which we are here surrounded ;
these heads and busts, and full length figures of gods, and " men like gods," not
wanting, too, in the honours of deification itself; here, for instance, in this bas-
relief, purchased at the expense of 1000/., we have the apotheosis of Homer
where figures are actually offering sacrifices to the father of poetry, whilst Jupiter
looks on from the summit of Parnassus in approval. Among the many other
gems of the saloon how shall we select for notice ? If we look in one direction
there is the grand head of Minerva, in another Hadrian's sumptuous statue,
in a third the vase with the Bacchanalian groups; in a fourth — but it is use-
less to go on, for such gems are here thick as the leaves in Vallombrosa ; so
we pause for a moment only by this lovely statue of Venus or Dione, naked to the
waist, but draped below, and then hurry on, no matter how reluctantly, into the
Phigalian Saloon.
Pausanias, speaking of a certain temple at the ancient Bassse on Mount Co-
tylion, says of it, that after the temple " at Tegea, it may be considered the
most beautiful of all the temples of the Peloponnesus ;'* it is of this building
that we possess the frieze from the interior of the cella, in t\yenty- three slabs,
each about two feet high ; and the whole now known as the Phigalian
marbles, so named from the town of Phigalia near which the temyjle stood. The
subject represented on them is the battle of the Centaurs and Lapithse. The
story may be thus told. The Centaurs having been invited to the marriage-
feast of Pirithous, king of the Lapithae, one of their number, called Eurytion,
offered violence to the person of Hippodamia, the bride. Theseus, the friend of
Pirithous, in his indignation at the insult, hurled a vessel of wine at the offender,
who fell lifeless. The Centaurs rushed forward to avenge their companion, at
the same time endeavouring to carry off the females present, when a general
combat ensued, which ended in the overthrow of the Centaurs and their being
driven from Thessaly. Of the manner in which these incidents are represented
in the sculptures, our engraving of one of the slabs will give the best notion.
We need only observe that the lofty beauty of the figures, the harmony of the
composition, and the wonderful vigour and life that informs the whole, make
[Slab from th« Fliigalian Marbles.]
1 72 LONDON.
it not improbable that they are from the designs of Phidias himself. Ictinus
was the architect of the Temple of Apollo, to which the Phigalian marbles
belonged, the same who was associated with Callistratus in the erection of the
Parthenon, during the administration of Pericles, and at a time when Phidias had
the general direction of the public works. Now we know that this great sculptor
superintended the decorations of the one temple, and that many of them were from
his own hands ; it is probable, therefore, the same arrangement prevailed as to
the other. The similarity between the styles is most striking, as the visitor Avill
at once acknowledge, if stepping from the frieze of the Phigalian Saloon he goes
direct to the Metopes of the Parthenon in the Elgin Saloon, where the same
subject is represented. It is strange the Greeks should have prevented their
sculptors from doing their best to prevent such doubts, in forbidding them to
inscribe their names upon their productions, as it is evident they did. Phidias
is a memorable instance. The interior of the Parthenon was enriched with a
statue of Minerva^, one of Phidias's master-pieces. On the shield of the goddess
a figure was seen, old and bald, uplifting a stone, which Cicero says was done by
the artist to perpetuate his memory, since he was not permitted to inscribe his
name upon the statue. Aristotle further informs us that the shield was con-
structed with such extraordinary ingenuity that removal was impossible, without
causing the fall of the whole group among which the artist had placed himself.
But his was a name the world would not — will not — let willingly die, inscribed
or not inscribed. The loftiest desire that a truly great mind can cherish is that
of influencing the minds of others kindred to its own, and through them the world
generally : Phidias died more than two thousand years ago ; but behold the power
of genius — daily and hourly is the spirit of the Greek sculptor teaching and
inspiring our students, and extending its subtle and penetrating influence through
every department of our arts. The means by which such potent eff'ects are
achieved are the Elgin marbles, so named from the Earl of Elgin, who obtained
them between the years 1801 and 1812, chiefly from the remains of the Par-
thenon. This grand temple was constructed entirely of white marble, and deco-
rated as never building was before or since. The sculptures in the Museum
which belonged to it are of three kinds ; Metopes, the square-shaped intervals
between the raised tablets or tryglyphs of a Doric frieze, the Frieze itself, imper-
fect, and Statues, broken or entire, from the pediments. The Metopes, we have
already incidentally stated, represent the battle of the Centaurs and the Lapitha?.
The frieze is devoted to the solemn procession called the Panathensea, which took
place at Athens every five years in honour of Minerva, the guardian divinity of
the city, when something like a whole people conveyed the sacred veil to the
temple, which was to be hung up before the statue of the goddess within : one of
the mightiest subjects sculpture ever attempted, and the most mightily executed.
In the original state of the frieze, which occupied the uJDper part of the walls
within the colonnade, the figures advanced in parallel columns, one along the
northern and the other along the southern sides of the temple, then turning the
angles of the west front met towards the centre as ready to enter. What remains
of the frieze is now arranged around the walls of the saloon, so a^to appear in
the same order to a visitor here as they would formerly have appeared to a spec-
tator who, approaching the temple by the east, should walk in succession round
the north, west, and south sides. These remains are very considerable, amounting
THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
173
to about 249 feet, to which may be added plaster casts of 76 feet more. The
chief deficiency is in the western frieze, of which but a single original slab
remains, and that is of such exquisite beauty as to enhance the sense of the loss
we have incurred by the absence of the remainder. But, probably, the finest
portions of the whole are found on the northern frieze, where the chariots and
charioteers are seen sweeping on in the procession, followed by a train of horse-
men. Movement is here so vividly represented that you can hardly fancy but
that the whole are actually passing away before your eyes; whilst if you examine
into the details, the perfect form and spirited action of the horses, the graceful
and airy costume, and elegsint abandoji, as it were, of the seat of the riders, every one
of whom the artist must have intended to '' witch the world with noble horseman-
ship," you can only feel how inadequate will be any praise or admiration that can
be expressed in words of the marvellous productions before you. Then the
variety — it is endless. Of a hundred and ten horses introduced, no two are in
[The Panathenaio Frieze.]
the same attitude ; each is characterised by a marked difference of expression.
The bridles of the horses were originally of gilded bronze. The principal
Statues in the Elgin collection belonged to one or other of the two pediments of
the Parthenon ; one of which represented the birth of Minerva, the other the
contest of Minerva and Neptune for the guardianship of Attica. The recumbent
statue called Theseus belonged to the first ; and the statue of Ilissus, or the
river god, to the second : both are seriously mutilated, and both are, notwith-
standing that drawback, esteemed by our greatest artists as the grandest indi-
vidual specimens of sculpture the world can furnish.
The Townley Collection was begun at Rome, by Charles Townley, Esq., of
Townley, in Lancashire, about 1768, and was so unremittingly and liberally in-
creased that, when the whole was offered to the nation (at two different periods),
the sums voted by Parliament for their purchase amounted to 28,200/. These
are arranged partly in the Grand Saloon, and its ante-room, but chiefly in the
series of rooms that extend southward from the Grand Saloon, and which will
shortly be rebuilt in continuation of the line formed by the latter and the Egyp-
tian Saloon. As this gallery forms the general or miscellaneous collection of the
174 LONDON.
Museum in atitlqulties, many important additions have been made to it, since the
period of the purchase. Returning through the Phigalian Saloon, towards the
ante-room, our eyes are attracted by the two great pediments which decorate the
upper portions of the walls of the saloon, which it appears are exact copies in size
and in decoration of the eastern and western extremities of the Temple of Jupiter
Panhellenius, in the island of ^gina. The statues also, which give to the pedi-
ments such a striking effect, standing out like so many real figures, are mostly
originals, and occupying their original position. The restorations that have been
made were confided to admirable hands — Thorwaldsen's. For the information
necessary for restoration of the pediments, and the general arrangement of the
statues in them, we are indebted to Mr. Cockerell, who, with other gentlemen,
carried on careful and extensive excavation among the ruins of the Temple. As
the ante-room is chiefly devoted to Roman sepulchral antiquities, we need not
delay there, but pass on to the first of the series of rooms above mentioned, the
Room XII. of the Catalogue. Here, among a variety of beautiful works, such
as the Cupid sleeping, the head of Adonis covered with a hood, is the bust of a
female, issuing from amidst the petals of a flower^ which Mr. Townley esteemed
the gem of his gallery, as we know from a curious anecdote connected with it.
During the Gordon riots, Mr. Townley, as a catholic, was marked out by the
mob, who intended to attack the house in Park Street where all his darling trea-
sures were collected. He secured his cabinet of gems, and casting a long and
lingering look behind at his marbles, was about to leave them to their fate, when,
moved by some irrepressible impulse of affection, he took the bust in question
into his arms and hurried off with it to his carriage. Fortunately the attack did
not take place, and his " v/ife," as he called the lady represented, returned to her
companions. In Room XI. the most valuable piece of sculpture probably is the
Discobolus, which is supposed to be an ancient copy in marble of the celebrated
bronze statue by Mjro ; who, by the wa}^ like Phidias, secretly rebelled against
the rule we have referred to ; for he put his name on a statue of Apollo, but in
letters almost imperceptible, and upon a part of one of the thighs where it would
be likely to remain undiscovered, except upon close search. The intoxicated
Faun, the sleeping Mercury, the bronze Hercules, and the bronze Apollo, of this
room, are scarcely less distinguished for their excellence. Sir William Hamilton's
miscellaneous collection of antiquities occupies the tenth room, and in the
ninth, on the upper floor, ascended by a staircase on the left, is the unique
Portland or Barberini vase, so often described. The eighth room of the series
is unoccupied, and the seventh devoted to British antiquities, upon which
our space will not permit us to dwell : so we pass on at once to the last of the
rooms that we shall notice, the sixth, rich beyond measure in the finest trea-
sures of the past. D;d ever poet or sculptor, for instance, conceive any thing
more exquisitely lovely in form than this broken, headless, leg-less, and all but
arm-less torso of Venus still appears, in spite of all injuries and mutilations?
Or any thing more expressive, more Cupid-like, than the statue of the mis-
chievous divinity bending his bow, ready for action, as shown in our last page ?
There is a speculation connected with this work of a noticeable character
Pausanias observes, speaking of Praxiteles and the courtesan Phryne, that the
latter, " whose influence over the sculptor seems to have been considerable," was
*' anxious to possess a work of Praxiteles, and not knowing, when she was desired
THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
175
[Tovso of Vfiuis.]
to choose for herself, which of two exquisite statues to select, devised the follow-
ing expedient. She commanded a servant to hasten to him and tell him that his
workshop was in flames, and that with few exceptions his works had already
perished. Praxiteles, not doubting the truth of the announcement, rushed out in
the greatest alarm and anxiety, exclaiming, ' all was lost if his Satyr and Cupid
were not saved.' The object of Phryne was answered; she confessed her stra-
! tagem, and immediately chose the Cupid." Now, is not the statue in the Museum
a copy of the one here referred to ? If the statue of Cupid, described by Callis-
I tratus as a most admired work of Praxiteles, be Phryne's, which is most probable,
then, as the Museum statue agrees exactly with that description, there is little
j doubt but we are in possession of a copy of the favourite work of this illustrious
' Grecian artist. It is not quite two feet high, and was found in 1775 enclosed
within a large vase, about twelve miles from Rome : the vacancies in the vase
round the statue were carefully filled with earth.
We have thus noted the more prominent objects that arrest the attention in
passing through the Museum ; but what a host remain behind, scarcely if at all
less worthy of note, in every apartment we have passed through ! Nor is that all.
There are entire departments of which we have said nothing, or referred to but
incidentally, and of which we can now but give little more than the names. Such
are the Medal Room, an aggregate of several collections, each of an extensive
character ; the Manuscript department, the very catalogues of which form a small
library ; the General Library of printed books, now, in connection with the King's,
on a par with the greatest continental libraries, and which is constantly increasing
through the new books brought into it by the operation of the Copyright law,
and in consequence of the sum of money set apart, nearly 2000/. yearly, for the
purchase of old or foreign works ; and the Banksian, or Botanical, department,
which is on the very first scale of magnitude and completeness. Truly the British
Museum is worthy of its name.
It will be evident that the expenses of such an establishment must be consi-
derable ; and that many persons must be occupied in fulfilling the duties attached
176
LONDON.
to it ; but the number of the last will surprise, we fancy, those who are but
slio"htly acquainted with the economy of the place. There is first a Principal
Librarian, next a Secretary, then there are seven keepers of departments, next
six assistant keepers. In addition to these, above SO persons of literary eminence
are constantly employed as assistants. A clerk of the works and an accountant
are also permanently attached. Lastly, there is a little army of attendants
dispersed through the libraries, saloons, and apartments, nearly seventy strong;
with a corps of subterranean bookbinders, averaging probably thirty strong, with
a few fumatori * or cast makers, exclusive of other regular and irregular append-
ages, such as household servants and labourers. The reader will now be prepared
to see a somewhat considerable sum mentioned as the annual expenditure in this
way alone ; and it is considerable, namely, for the year 1842, 15,258/. 125. 2d. ; the
entire expenses of the establishment in the same period being 31,658/. 145. \d.,
which, we need hardly say, was chiefly defrayed by the annual parliamentary
vote.
* It will interest those who may not be already aware of the circumstance, that casts of the finest things in the
Museum can be obtained at an expense that is little more than sufficient to cover the actual costs. Thus a cast
from Mr. Townley's favourite bust is charged only half-a-guinea.
[Slatue of Cupid, Townley Collection.] J
[Hanover Square Rooms.]
CXXXVII.— MUSIC.
The earliest known pieces of English musical composition which present even a
semblance of approach to melody and harmony, as we now understand these
words, are the song of the battle of Azincour, the offspring, no doubt, of some
enthusiastic and patriotic musician of the time, which is preserved in the Pepy-
3lan collection, Cambridge; and a canon in unison, in four parts, with a free
tenor and base added by way of burden, set to the delightful old Anglo-Saxon
song— .
" Smnmer is y coming in
Loud sing cuckoo ;" &c.
leither of these pieces exhibiting any remarkable qualities, from which we might
nfer that their predecessors must have been either numerous or excellent. How
ow then must have been the state of English music up to the period in question
jeems to be a remark naturally suggested by the consideration of such facts. Yet
-vhilstit is sufficiently evident that music, during the middle ages, was not what
VOL. VI. N
178
LONDON.
it is now, there are many things which seem to show that — such as it was — music
was more universally appreciated and enjoyed among our forefathers than it is
among ourselves, notwithstanding our concerts, festivals, and oratorios, our
monster halls, orchestras, and audiences. The proofs for instances are innumer-
able, that one of the most valuable features of a truly musical people, and
which is also one of the most indispensable conditions of their existence, the
power of playing on one instrument at least, was deemed a necessary part of the
education of all persons of superior rank and condition, from the very earliest
periods. It was by no accident of individual taste, for instance, that Alfred was
enabled to assume the disguise of a minstrel, during his dangerous visit to the Danish
camp ; for we find that several other princes, Saxon and Danish, adopted at dif-
ferent times the same expedient. Bede even tells us that the harp, of which
distinct foii'ms will be perceived in the accompanying engravings, was in eom-
[ Anglo- Saxon Illumination, showing various Musical Instruments, from the Cotton MSS.]
mon use among his countrymen on festivals, when he adds the custom was for it
to be handed round the company, that all might sing and perform in turn. If
we look to another class, and a mighty one in numbers alone, apart from other
I MUSIC. 179
! considerations, the clergy, we perceive, at a glance, that the very duties of their
office, involving a continual study and practice and exhibition of the art, must
Ihave made them essentially a musical class; but it was more than a duty, a
^ pleasure also ; from the day St. Augustine and his companions first sung or
i chanted before King Ethelbert, down to that when Thomas, archbishop of York,
in the twelfth century, not content with the ordinary resources of the church,
pressed into the service whatever song tunes of the minstrels pleased him, we
I find the members of our cathedrals and abbeys, and parochial churches, constantly
doing something to diffuse, to develop, or to improve the art. We learn from
i the author before-mentioned that the pope, in 678, sent one John from Rome ex-
pressly to teach music to the English clergy ; and that, in consequence, they
began universally to use singing in their churches. An amusing instance of the
value attached to a little musical knowledge, in the following century, is fur-
nished by the appointment of one Putna, *' a simple man in worldly matters/'
but well instructed in ecclesiastical discipline, and especially accomplished in
song and music for the church, to the bishopric of Rochester. And, probably, he
got on very well while there were no particular difficulties to be surmounted in
the performance of the onerous functions attached to his rank ; but on the spolia-
tion of his church by the Mercians a few years after, he went contentedly off to
Servulf, Bishop of Mercia, and there obtaining of him a small cure and a portion
of ground, remained in that country ; not once labouring to restore his church of
Rochester to the former state, but went about in Mercia to teach song, and
instruct such as would learn music, wheresoever he was required or could get
entertainment."* But sterner minds could sympathise with the taste if they would
not, under similar circumstances, have followed the example of the simple-minded
Putna. Dunstan was almost as famous for his harp-playing as for his peculiar
conferences with princes and potentates, natural and supernatural. As to the
people, it is not difficult to see what must have been the inevitable effect of the
influences thus surrounding them, in the musical tendencies of the two great and
governing, and in every way, influential classes. Wherever they moved, music
met them — now with its mighty voice pealing forth from the organ, as they
stepped into the sacred edifice, and now rising upon the simple but sublimely-
sounding chant of the passing procession as they hurried along to their daily
labour; now echoing through the halls of their feudal lord, commemorating the
glories of his line, in which they had so material a share, and now rousing them
to renewed exertions as he led them forth to fresh fields of warfare. We might
almost say music never left them : scarcely had one festival passed before another
was expected ; the minstrel guest of to-day — of all guests the most universally
acceptable and welcome,^from the battlemented castle to the humblest hut — as
he poured forth his collected treasures to the absorbed groups about him, was told
of the songs of his predecessor of yesterday ; the very watchmen of the neigh-
bouring city walls — the original waits , made musical the night by their '^pipings"
the long year through.
But we are not left entirely without evidence of a more direct and positive
character. The true classical land of Britain, if we believe the Irish historians,
*^Holinshed.
N 2
ISO
LONDON.
[Anglo-Saxon Illumuiation, vepresonting a Danoe with Musicians, from the Cotton MSS.] *
was the Green Isle itself, and certainly the position of that country was asl
remark able for its superiority, at a very distant period, as it is now for the reverse.!
We have before had occasion to show the literary obligations of England tol
Ireland ; its musical appear to be equally signal. And in this it stands but in the
same position as Wales and Scotland ; the national music of the whole having!
been traced to Ireland. Nay, there have not been wanting Italian writers to(
confess their faith in the Hibernian paternity of the Italian school. The state of
the instrumental music of such a nation, then, is an interesting subject, andl
Giraldus Cambrensis gives us a passage, of some importance^ relating to it.
Having described their instrumental music as, beyond comparison, superior to
that of any nation he had known, he says their modulation " is not slow and
solemn, as in the instruments of Britain, to which we are accustomed, but the
sounds are rapid and precipitate, yet, at the same time, sweet and pleasing. It
is wonderful how, in such precipitate rapidity of the fingers, the musical propor-
tions are preserved ; and how, by their art, faultless throughout, in the midst of
their complicated modulations and most intricate arrangement of notes, by a
rapidity so sweet, a regularity so irregular, a concord so discordant,* the melody
is rendered harmonious and perfect." Then, again, in another department, the
same writer tells us, the Welsh practised vocal harmony in many parts, and that
the people of York, and beyond the Humber, were accustomed to sing in two
parts, treble and base. Lastly, as to song singing, it should seem that following
the Italian scale in the eleventh century, the Italian style had crept in by
degrees, before the thirteenth, when John of Salisbury says of the singers in the
churches, that they " endeavour to melt the hearts of the admiring multitude
* Ford miglitliave been tliinking of this passage when he wrote the following lines, in his exquisite account of
the contention of a bird and a musician :
" Upon his inslrument he plays so swiftly,
So many voluntaries, and so quiclc, _ .
That tliere was curiosity and cunning,
Concord in discord, lines of different method,
Meeting in one full centre of delight.''
MUSIC.
181
|ith their effeminate notes and quavers, and with a certain luxuriancy of voice."
till later, Chaucer, in his 'Romaunt of the Rose,' describes a lady's performances
I terms that imply no mean style of the art at the period. —
" Well could she sing, and histily,
None half so well and seem-e-ly.
And could make in song such lefraining,*
It sate her wonder well to sing.
Her voice full clear was, and full sweet
She was not rude, ne yet unmeet, ^
But couthe t enough for such doing
As longeth unto carolling."
Some of these notices seem to show that even the art of music can hardly have
en so low, in the early ages of our history, as a slight glance at some of the facts
le have mentioned would lead us to suppose. Look, for instance, at the number
instruments possessed by the Anglo-Saxons. In some of their illuminations
e find the minstrels with the pipe and tabor, violin, base flute, lute or cittern,
d treble or old English flute ; in the one at page 178, a harp, violin, horn,
ad a kind of straight trumpet; and in page 180, a lyre, and a double-flute,
hich, remarkably enough, are of the exact classical shape. Here we have
jparently the parent of the modern trombone. Bells, of course, were common.
'[Anglo-Saxon Illumination, from the 'Colton MSS.']
'he cymbal and drum were also among the Anglo-Saxon instruments. The chief
istrument of the church was the organ, the making of which we find the Arch-
h'shop of York before mentioned sedulously engaged in teaching to his clergy
oon after the Conquest. In the fourteenth century Chaucer, in ' The Flower
nd the Leaf,* speaks of
" Minstrels, many one,
As harpes, pipes, lutes, and sauti y,
Alle in green ;"
hilst in the band, as we may call it, of Edward lll.'s household we find mention
lade of performers on the oboe, clarion, and tabret; and, lastly, in an illumina-
ion of the period, we are presented with the hand-organ, or dulcimer.
* Refraiiij the burden of a soug, or return to the first part. f Knew,
182
LONDON.
How then is it that we have no remains of the music of so musical a people,
older than the fifteenth century? The answer we think must be, that putting
aside technical considerations relating to the art, which was, of course, as an
art, in a very rude state prior to the invention, by Guido d'Arezzo, of the scale in
the eleventh century ; and of the other improvements that speedily followed,
[Dulcimer and Violin.]
the fact seems to be that music in ancient times in Greece, and Rome, as well as
in England, meant poetry even more than music ; that the last, though studied,
— and most assiduously studied — was intended rather as a delightful vehicle for
the accompanying words, than for its own sake. But in such a view there is
nothing opposed to the position with which we set out. On the contrary, the
ground-work of all music, even in its loftiest developments, melody, must have
flourished under such circumstances. When the minstrel's heart swelled with
his theme, and his voice sought to give it adequate expression in song, he was
placed under the most favourable influences for the production of essentially good,
because characteristic music; and it is hardly too much therefore to say, that
could we summon from the shadowy regions of the past a Taillefer, to sing us the
song of Roland, as he poured it forth in leading the attack at the battle of
Hastings ; or could we ourselves be carried back into them, and listen to the song
of Blondel as he raised it near the castle where he thought the Lion Heart might
be confined, and had the exquisite delight of immediately hearing the continua-
tion sung, by way of answer, from one of the windows : could we really know the
value and amount of the musical stores of such men, — we should never again
think of the paucity of our musical remains with any other sentiment than that of
regret at the consideration of how much we must have lost.
In the general invigoration of feeling and intellect produced by the Reforma-
tion, our musicians did not fail to participate ; from that time we may date the
origin of modern English music. Then began to arise, in quick and remarkable
succession, a host of men whose works, in many instances, are not merely known
but enjoyed at the present day. Tye was the earliest of these ; who was music-
MUSIC. 183
^preceptor to Prince, afterwards King, Edward VI. Eowlcy, the dramatist, makes
ithe Prince thus speak to the doctor in one of his plays :
I " Doctor, I thank you, and commend your cunning.
I oft have heard my father merrily speak
In your high praise ; and thus his highness saith —
England one God, one truth, one doctor hath
In music's art, and that is Dr. Tye,
Admir'd for skill in music's harmony."
Surely there is nothing new under the sun : What is this but the original of
the famous exclamation, '* One God, one Farinelli "? This is the musician who,
at a later period, was playing somewhat too scientifically before Queen Elizabeth,
and caused her to send the verger to tell him that he played out of tune; to
which the testy doctor returned, that ''her ears were out of tune." Contempo-
rary with Tye were Tallis and Bride — the latter the author of the glorious ' Non
nobis, Domine.^ These were chiefly distinguished for their church music. But
the time of Elizabeth is still more remarkable for its madrigalian composers,
who, in number and excellence, almost form to music what the dramatists of the
same period are to poetry. Morley was one of them ; Dowland — the immor-
talised of Shakspere's poems ;
" Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch
Upon the lute doth ravish human sense" —
was another, whose madrigals are so exquisitely beautiful as to give ten-fold
interest to the lines; Wilbye, a still greater name, was a third: to these, among
many others, must be added, Ford, Ward, and Gibbons ; the last equally illus-
trious for his cathedral music. Suddenly the growing prosperity of the art was
arrested by the civil wars^ and the ensuing Commonwealth, when music and
musicians were alike proscribed ; although it is a noticeable trait in Cromwell's
character that he, who had so just an appreciation of what was most valuable in
art as to purchase the Cartoons, seems to have been also devotedly attached to
music in its sublimest forms. When the great organ of Magdalen College,
Oxford, was forcibly removed, the Protector caused it to be carefully taken to his
palace at Hampton Court, and placed in the gallery, where it formed one of his
especial enjoyments, when he could steal an hour from the absorbing cares of the
state, to come hither and listen. Kingston was his organist, who gave occasional
concerts in his house, and these Cromwell also attended. No doubt musicians
yearned for the termination of a period so generally fatal to their pursuit;
but when that desire was gratified by the Restoration, the result was any-
thing but what they must have anticipated. It was a pity that the French people
did not devise some expedient of attaching permanently to their country a
monarch who was so fond of all that belonged to them, and had so little respect
for his countrymen. With French manners and French literature, French music
also accompanied or followed the returning steps of the long-exiled prince. And
although the impulse previously given was too powerful to be suddenly checked,
and great British composers still occasionally appeared, fashion did as much as
it could to keep down such attempts, and to a certain extent succeeded. But
in this reign an event of some novelty and of great importance occurred, the in-
181 LONDON.
fluence of which in preserving a certain amount of pure taste, and consequently
of genuine relish for the excellence of the native school, can hardly be overrated.
We allude to the rise of concerts.
■ Sir John Hawkins gives but a melancholy view of the opportunities furnished
to the middle and lower classes of society, in the latter part of the seventeenth
century, for the study and enjoyment of music. The nobility had^ of course,
private concerts of paid performers, as, to a certain extent, they had, probably,
always been accustomed to have ; then, for a class lower in position, we find a kind
of public concerts gradually growing into use, of which the chief manager was
Mr. John Banister; but as to the people generally, it seems the musical portion
of them was satisfied with entertainments given in public-houses, and by per-
formers hired by the landlords. Here, says Sir John, there was no variety of
parts, no commixture of different instruments; "half a dozen of fiddlers would
scrape Sellenger's (or St. Leger's) Round, or John come Kiss me, or Old Simon the
King, with divisions, till themselves and their audience Avere tired ; after which as
many players on the hautboy would, in the most harsh and discordant tones, grate
forth Green Sleeves, Yellow Stockings, Gillian of Croydon, or some such common
dance tune, and the people thought it fair music." * But a great reformation
was at hand, though every one was astonished at the quarter from whence it came.
There was then to be seen daily, walking through the streets of London, a man dis-
tinguished from his rivals in the same trade — that of selling small-coal from a bag
carried over his shoulder — by his peculiar musical cry, by his habits of stopping at
every book-stall that lay in his way, where, if there happened to be a treasure, it
was sure to be caught up and purchased, and by his acquaintances, many of
whom, as they paused to speak to him in the street, were evidently members of
a very different rank of society to his. Ask any bye-stander you see gazing upon
him with a look of mingled respect and wonder, who or what he is, and you are
answered — That is the '' Small-coal man, who is a lover of learning, a performer
in music, and a companion for a gentleman any day of his life." It is, indeed,
Thomas Britton, the founder of modern concerts. Let us follow him home. He
has done his day's work, and is thinking, probably, of some interesting specula-
tion that has been started in the course of his usual weekly meeting in Pater-
noster Row, with the dukes and earls, who are, like him, collectors ; of more
Avealth, certainly, but not of greater taste, knowledge, or zeal; or else he is
running over in his mind the pieces of music that he thinks of selecting for the
evening's amusement. Thus, to his little coal- shed and house in Clerkenwell
cheerily he goes, where all traces of the business of the day soon disappear ; an
hour or two elapses, and he is in the midst of a delightful circle of friends and
fellow-amateurs, exchanging sincere gratulations, paying his respects to new
visitors, opening music books, and tuning his violin. That is indeed a remark-
able circle for a small-coal man to draw around him. Know you not the broken
German of that last comer who sits down to the harpsichord ? — O yes, that is
Handel, the great foreign musician ; and by his side is Dr. Pepusch, who is also
a foreigner, and who has also adopted England for his home. That other pair
are WooUaston the painter, and Hughes the poet ; the former has just shown a
* * History of Music,' vol. i. p. 2.
MUSIC.
185
t portrait of Britton he has this day sketched, having called him in as he went his
I rounds; and the latter, with an exclamation of pleasure, recognises a capital
likeness of the host. The poet will not be behind the painter in contributing
I from the stores of his art to the honour of an excellent man, so a few lines are
' presently roughly traced with a pencil beneath the sketch; which is then handed
round by the pleased artist, who sees how happily the two will one day preserve
the memory of their friend.
[ [Thomas Biiiton ]
" Though mean thy rank, yet in thy humble cell
Did gentle peace, and arts, unpurchas'd, dwell.
Well pleas'd, Apollo thither led his train,
And music warbled in her sweetest strain.
Cyllenius so, as fables tell, and Jove,
Came willing guests to poor Philemon's grove.
Let useless pomp behold, and blush to find
So low a station— such a liberal mind."
But whose delicious silvery-sounding laugh is that on the stairs, produced ap-
parently by the repeated trips of the laugher, as she endeavours to ascend with
her usual step stairs to her of a very unusual character? She enters; her face,
one of the most beautiful in the world, a little flushed with her conquest over the
difficulties of the way, but radiant with good-humour ; it is no less than the
Duchess of Queensberry, who comes this evening to share in the musical hospi-
talities of the small-coal man. But the music begins, and in the taste with
which it has been selected, and in the style in which everything is performed^ the
duchess finds continual matter of surprise and gratification.
186 LONDON.
These interesting meetings, which began in 1678, appear to have been con-
tinued till the death of Britton, which, it is painful to add, occurred indirectly
through them. A justice Robe was among the members, one of those greatest
of social nuisances, a practical joker. This man introduced into Britton's com-
pany a ventriloquist of the name of Honeyman, who, making his voice descend
apparently from on high, announced to Britton his immediate decease, and bade
him, on his knees, repeat the Lord's Prayer by way of preparation. The com-
mand was obeyed ; and a few days afterward the subject of it was lying a corpse,
overcome by the terrors of his imagination thus recklessly and basely worked upon.
The impulse given by the establishment of the small-coal man's concerts soon
extended itself In one direction '' music-shops" of different kinds and different
grades arose ; whilst in another, societies sprang into existence for the mere en-
joyment and promotion of music only, apart from any pecuniary considerations.
First of these, and therefore the first of such societies in England, was the
Academy of Ancient Concerts, established in 1710, for the practice of ancient
vocal and instrumental music; among the principal founders being Dr. Pepusch
and Bernard Gates of the Queen*s Chapel. A library was commenced ; and,
with the assistance of the gentlemen of the chapel, the choir of St. Paul's, and
the boys from each, a powerful executive formed. For above eighty years did
this society exist (it was dissolved in 1792), during which many and weighty
were the especial services rendered by it to music, apart from the beneficial ten-
dencies of its general course. One of these occurred in 1732. Handel, after
rising to the summit of popularity, had offended his more aristocratic supporters
during his management of the Italian Opera, and, in consequence, been driven into
retirement with the loss of 10,000/., and with a broken constitution. At the time
we have mentioned, the quarrel was still raging, and the great musician's posi-
tion almost desperate. Then it was that during Lent the Academy brought
forward the oratorio of Esther (which had been composed by Handel for the
Duke of Chandos's chapel at Cannons) ; and performed it by means of their own
members and the children of the chapel only : the boys of St. Paul's having
been taken away by Dr. Greene, on the occasion of a schism in the society, who
then opened the Apollo room in the Devil Tavern ; on hearing of which Handel,
who had been indirectly a cause of the schism, remarked wittil}^ '' De toctor
Creene is gone to the tefel!" Although thus shorn of its fair proportions, the
Academy exhibited Esther with such remarkable success, that Handel thought
he might try the same experiment on his own account ; hence arose the custom of
regularly performing oratorios in Lent. Deborah was produced in 1733, Israel in
Egypt in 1738, Saul in 1740, and the Messiah in 1741 ; when unable any longer
to endure the mortification of finding such works too unpopular even to pay their
expenses, the musician determined to quit the country, and accordingly went to
Ireland. Pope's well known lines will not be here out of place. Alluding to the
quarrel between Handel and the nobility, the poet, in his appeal to the Goddess
of Dullness, writes —
" But soon, ah ! soon, rebellion will commence,^
If music meanly borrow aid from sense.
Strong iu new arms, lo ! giant Handel stands
Like bold Briareus, with a hundred hands :
MUSIC. 187
To stir, to rouse, to shake the world he comes,
And Jove's own thunders follow Mars's drums.
Arrest him, empress, or you sleep no more —
She heard— and drove him to th' Hibernian shore ;
where he was received with a fitting welcome, and from which he returned with
fresh laurels to London, in 1742, to try once more his fate. Samson soon appeared
at Covent Garden, and an unbroken career of success commenced at last. Under
the management of Handel's friend J. C. Smith, Stanle}^ Linley, and Dr.
Arnold, the oratorio long maintained the popularity given to it by the author of
• The Messiah ;' but toward the close of the century a person of the name of
Ashley started in rivalry to Arnold, and, according to the ordinary rules of
managers in opposition, adopted any expedients that promised a temporary
success ; among them those of partially secularizing and wholly vulgarizing the
performances. From that time oratorios, though continued until a comparatively
recent period, and with occasional gleams of returning prosperity, produced by
occasional gleams of managerial sense and spirit, kept up but a kind of languish-
ing existence that left little to regret when they at last disappeared altogether.
The two most noticeable events in their history, since Handel's time, were the
re-production of ^The Messiah' with Mozart's accompaniments, and the perform-
ance of Beethoven's ' Mount of Olives.'
The madrigalians were not idle during this period. There was among the
members of the Academy a Mr. John Immyns, a reduced attorney, who satisfied
his pecuniary wants and his musical tastes at the same time by becoming ama-
nuensis to Dr. Pepusch, and copyist to the Society. An ardent admirer of the
good old days of madrigal singing, he had the good fortune, as no doubt he
esteemed it^ to light upon some compositions belonging to that class and time.
Thenceforth there was nothing for it but to teach the world madrigals. It is a
significant fact, that he sought for disciples at the loom and in the workshop ; men
whom he already knew, or had heard spoken well of, for their musical tastes and
their practice in psalmody. Kotzebue says every one tries to draw a circle
around him, of which he may be the centre; our attorney had now found his
circle, and happy enough, no doubt, he was in it ; extending the knowledge of
its members, improving their tastes, developing their skill. They met in 1741
at the appropriate sign of the Twelve Bells in Bride Lane ; the expenses of their
music, books, paper, and refreshments being all defrayed by a quarterly sub-
scription of 55.; so that their weekly enjoyments cost them something less than
bd. each. And it would have done the hearts good of some of those old com-
posers whose works they revived, to know how they performed them ; ice may
judge of the excellence of the Spitalfields' weavers and their companions by see-
ing what men were attracted to their society as members — Dr. Arne, Sir John
Hawkins, Drs. Cooke and Callcott — in short, almost all our great eminent musi-
cians down to the very present time, in which the society looks as vigorous and
healthy as ever, though but two years ago it celebrated its hundredth year.
In contrast with the Madrigal Society and its plebeian foundation, stands the
Catch Club, founded in 1762, says Dr. Burney, by the Earls of Eglintoun and
March, and other noblemen and gentlemen, but which Mr. Gardiner carries back
188 LONDON.
to a more distant and elevated source. '' This Society, I believe^ originated in
the social meetings spent by Charles II. with Purcel and other hon vivants of that
age, the portraits of whom, painted by the first masters, occupy the walls of the
dining-room in that ancient tavern (the Thatched House). These convivial
meetings commence on the opening of Parliament, and continue every Tuesday,
with a splendid dinner at four o'clock, immediately after which the grace, Noii
nobis Domine, is sung by the whole company. After the cloth is drawn the
Chairman recapitulates some of the ancient laws of the Society, namely, ' If any
honourable member has come to a fortune or estate, he shall pay a per centage
upon the same, or he may commute the same for ten pounds. If any nobleman,
knight, baronet or esquire, shall have taken unto himself a wife, he shall pay
into the treasury a fine of twenty pounds in sterling money I' " And it appears
from the bank-notes that Mr. Gardiner saw handed in, on the occasion of his
visit, that the rules have by no means fallen into desuetude. Music owes much
to the early exertions of this Society. The Glee may almost be said to have
originated with it. Up to the year 1793 gold medal prizes, of the value of ten
guineas each, were annually given for the best glees, canons and catches. And
among the successful candidates we find the names of Webbe, Cooke, the
Earl of Mornington, Hayes, Danby, Callcott and Stevens. Two of these alone —
Webbe and Callcott, obtained nearly fifty prizes. After this it were needless to
expatiate upon the merits of the Catch Club. Webbe became Secretary of the
Society, in 1784; and we may incidentally observe, that on the establishment,
three years later, of the Glee Club — something on the plan of the Catch Club,
but without prizes, and which is still existing, he was appointed its Librarian:
for this Society he wrote both the words and the music of ' Glorious Apollo,'
after its wanderings from one member's house to another had ceased — a feature
in its early history, which is alluded to in the Glee : Arnold, Linley, Webbe,
Callcott, and Bartleman, were members of this Club. But to return. The
cessation of the prizes of the Catch Club has, of course, materially diminished the
influence and value of the Society, and we regret to see that the original division
into subscribing and professional members has been attended with a result which
ought not to have been, and, most probably, was not anticipated, namely, a divi-
sion into ranks : if the fact be, as stated, that the professional members ''enter
the room on terms of admitted inferiority," it is certain that music, as well as its
professors, will suffer ; the divine art knows nothing of social distinctions, and will
certainly soon disappear from the place where they are insisted on.
Immediately after the establishment of the Catch Club a new evidence
appeared of the rapid progress of music, as regards diffusion, which, after all, was
the thing then wanted, since so many admirable composers had appeared within
the previous century, that good music was at all times available. Whilst amateur,
and mingled professional and amateur societies were flourishing in one direction,
and the music-shojijs — including such really useful establishments as Vauxhall and
Ranelagh, in a second, a something combining the musical character of the one
and the pecuniary features of the other — subscription-concerts, on a scale of great
splendour, appeared in a third.
In 1763, Abel, a distinguished German composer and performer, a pupil of the
MUSIC. 189
great Sebastian Bach, and John Christian Bach, the son of the latter, com-
menced weekly subscription concerts in London, which for many years were
highly successful. Abel himself contributed in no slight degree to this result.
On that little six-stringed violoncello, or viol di gamba of his, an instrument now
disused, and with some one of his many simple but elegant compositions, he per-
formed such wonders, that the enraptured Dr. Burney says, no musical produc-
tion or performance with which he was acquainted seemed to approach nearer
perfection. We should have been very much surprised if Abel, then, had not
highly estimated his instrument, and can fully sympathise with him when he
even becomes so enthusiastic about it as he did at the dinner at Lord Sandwich's,
according to Dr. Wolcot's story. After the dinner, which took place at the
Admiralty, the merits of different musical instruments were canvassed, and
his Lordship proposed that each one should mention his favourite. One after
another did so ; and harps, pianofortes, organs, clarionets, found numerous ad-
mirers; but the indignant Abel heard not a word of the viol di gamba. Other
instruments followed, and still no viol di gamba. Abel could no longer restrain
himself, but suddenly rose in great emotion, exclaiming, as he left the room, *' O
dere be brute in de world; dere be those who no love de king of all de instru-
ment ! " Numerous other concerts of the same kind followed the success of
Bach and Abel's experiment; the most noticeable are the Pantheon Concerts,
held in the beautiful building then standing in Oxford Street, but which was
destroyed in 1792 by lire ; the professional concerts, given in the rooms since so
famous in musical histor}^, those of Hanover Square, and Salomon's, by far the
most important of the whole. This distinguished foreign violinist, having care-
fully matured his plans in 1/90, setoff to Vienna, with the gallant determination
of bringing back with him either Haydn or Mozart, to produce in person some of
their own compositions. They were so pleased with the scheme that both agreed
to it, and arranged with Salomon that one should come over one year, and the other
the next. Poor Mozart did not live to fulfil his part of the arrangement; but
Haydn arrived in London in 1791, and, in the course of that and the following
year, produced six of the twelve grand symphonies, that now add so greatly to
the illustrious musician's name. In 1794 he came again to London, to fulfil a
similar engagement with the enterprising Salomon, and the remaining six sym-
phonies enriched that and the ensuing season. But Salomon's claims upon the
musical world were to be yet incalculably enhanced. In 1798 he ventured, at
his own entire risk, to bring out at the Opera Concert Koom, Haydn's grandest
work, the ' Creation,' the only oratorio, it is said, which will bear comparison with
Handel. Of the many other subscription concerts that followed those of Salomon,
it will be sufficient to mention those conducted by Harrison and Knyvett, from
1792 to 1794; by the same parties, in connection with Bartleman and Greatorex,
from 1801 to 1821 ; and by Mrs. Billington, Mr. Braham, and Signer Naldi,
from 1808 to 1810, at Willis' Rooms; whilst Madame Catalani, during the same
period, opposed them at Hanover Square Rooms.
As to the musical societies of the present day, their name is Legion. We have
them for all classes, of all degrees of importance, and embodying the cultivation
of all schools. Then again some are for pure instruction, as the Royal Academy
190 LONDON.
of Music, established in 1822, and the multitudinous classes of Exeter Hall,
from which offshoots are fast spreading into every parish of the metropolis ; some
for the glorification of particular musicians, as the Purcel Club ; but generally, of
course, enjoyment is aimed at, whether it be in the grand amateur performances
of the Sacred Harmonic Society at the hall before mentioned ; in the Promenade
Concerts, which give us an artificial garden and Monsieur Jullien's cravat, besides
all the music, for a shilling; in the Melodists' Club, one of the most agreeable,
because the most universal in its plan, of musical assemblages ; or in the numerous
Septet and Quartet Societies which enliven our domestic circles, and occasionally
occupy the concert-room. But pre-eminent above all these, and the older (existing)
societies previously noticed, and exercising over most of them an indirect influence
through their superiority, are the Ancient Concerts and the Philharmonic. The
Ancient Concerts were established in 1776, at a period when the taste of the time
promised to banish from the orchestra the works of the mighty masters who had
given to it all its true glory, and when the older academy had ceased to exercise
any effectual preventive influence. At the Concerts of Ancient Music all
lovers of music of the highest order were promised a gratification and an instruc-
tion that they could no where else obtain, and upon the whole the institution has
redeemed the pledges with which it set out. The original suggester of the
society was the Earl of Sandwich, who, with the aid of other noblemen and gentle-
men of the first rank, also carried it into effect, and with such spirit that royalty
itself became a constant visitor ; a great honour, no doubt, but attended ulti-
mately with one serious inconvenience. George III. admired Handel greatly,
and in so doing shared but an almost universal feeling; but George III. admired
no one else, or if he did care to hear a few notes of Purcel, just by way of relief,
now and then, why that was the extent of his toleration ; and to this bigotry
Greatorex, whilst director^ uninterruptedly lent himself. It was out of this
society that the famous Handel Commemoration arose in 1 784, and which, by the
grandeur of the scale upon which it was conducted, gave a new impetus to the
study and enjoyment of the great musician's works, the effects of which are still
strikingly visible in the grand musical movement now on foot : a movement that
promises to restore the old English universality of feeling for the art, with
incalculably increased means for study and enjoyment, through the advances
that art has made in the last two or three centuries.
The Philharmonic was established in 1813, and from a somewhat similar motive
to that which originated the Ancient Concerts. Grand instrumental compo-
sitions of the highest class, by modern musicians, had ceased to have a home, as
the more important of the subscription concerts before-mentioned lost their popu-
larity and became gradually extinct. " Never was a society formed in a better
spirit and with a more commendable aim than the Philharmonic. It began
where it ought; it was governed as it ought. There was no hunting after
titled patrons or subscribers ; no weak subserviency to mere rank. The most
eminent members of the profession took the whole aflair into their own hands, and
entered upon their duties strong, and justly strong, in their own strength. They
merged all claims of rank or precedence in one great object — the love of their
art. Men of the highest musical rank were content to occupy subordinate stations
MUSIC. 191
in the orchestra. Every man put his shoulder to the wheel ; and this very fact
impressed the public with a conviction that they were in concert."'"^^ Among the
early members were John Cramer, Clementi, Crotch, Horsley, Bishop, Attwood,
Francois Cramer, Spagnoletti, and Braham. It was fitting that the man who had
before done so much in the cause in which they were engaged should preside at
the opening meeting. Salomon, then an old man, led the concerts with '' a zeal
and ability that age had in no degree impaired." The progress of the Phil-
harmonic was for some years equal to the preparation; and it is impossible to
over-estimate the services rendered by it to the art during that period. It has
since, it must be confessed, slackened in its exertions ; there has not been ex-
hibited the same single-minded enthusiasm. But we would fain hope that it
will yet again arise like a giant refreshed from its slumber. The objects for
which it was instituted were never more desirable than now ; we might say they
were never more generally desired. But it is by no petty effort, no absurd appeals
to the love of novelty merely, no yielding to the caprices of fashion, that the
Philharmonic can recover its once overflowing lists of subscribers. It was formed
to lead, and not to follow, and must redouble its exertions, if necessary, in order
to place itself once more in a position to fulfil its mission. And if that be grand,
what grand instruments are not in its possession to work by? The Philharmonic
band is, perhaps, the finest in the world. It is something in a lifetime to re-
member that first visit to the Hanover Square Rooms, on one of the eight Phil-
harmonic nights. Mozart and Haydn, Beethoven, Weber, and Spohr, appear
there as we may no where else find them, unless it be at the representations of
their operas by their own countrymen, when they occasionally visit us. Mr.
Gardiner has given us a picturesque description of a great work of one of
the men we have named — the ' Eroica' by Beethoven — as he heard it per-
formed by the Philharmonic band. And, as it illustrates in an unusually clear
manner the mechanism of a grand piece of instrumental music ; and incidentally,
the demands made by such a work on the skill of the performers, and on the
capacity to guide and to hold with an unfailing hand, of the conductor; it may
not be uninteresting to our readers to see it here. So let us imagine ourselves
seated with the writer amidst the crowded benches of the room shown at
the head of our paper, and waiting anxiously the commencement. Hush !
there is the slow but sharp tap-tap of the conductor. And the Eroica
''opens with two massive shocks, like the firing of cannon; after which springs
Vip, apparently at a great distance, a solemn bewailing melody from the violon-
cellos, re-echoed by the grave and pensive horn. This strain is taken up in turn by
all the instruments, gradually increasing and swelling in sound to an overwhelm-
ing degree. The ingenious author keeps the melody constantly in view, playing
upon platforms of harmony, while these steady masses of sound are made to slide
through the different keys. At the sixty-fifth bar a collision takes place, reiterated
several times, and between every shock the dragon-like wings of the violins dart
among the instruments with frightful asperity. The whole scene is wild con-
fusion, in which some of the instruments grow mad with rage. For a moment
something like repose takes place, when a running fight is represented by the
* i
Spectator' newspaper, 1843, p. 759.
192 LONDON.
violins and basses in staccato, driving after each other with increased rapidity.
Successive crashes of sound depict the battle in close combat; the oboes and
bassoons deplore the fate of the wounded, and out of the crowd rise tones of despair
and death. Here the orchestra seems exhausted, and discomfited voices try to
resume the original melody, but always without success. Wide floods of harmony
still undulate in massive waves, upon which the double basses carry the opening
subject triumphant to the end. After this most extraordinary movement, the
Funeral March is heard at a distance — a strain of solemn beauty and simplicity.
This is sung by the voices of the wind instruments, while the violins and basses,
by soft touches at regular intervals, imitate the muffled drums. The weeping
oboe and the solos from the bassoon fill the whole strain with gloom and sorrow.
This is followed by a soldier savage-like song that runs into the last movement,
expressing tumultuous joy. The blaze of harmony is intense, but agreeably
relieved by the flutter of the violins, casting a veil over the loud instruments and
mitigating the sound. Near the end is a delicious strain from the wind instru-
ments— a prayer to the Supreme Being, whom this author, in his inspired
moments, always conceived to be at his elbow; a few sublime crashes of sound
terminate this wonderful piece." * The *Eroica' was written in honour of Napo-
leon ; but, on his assuming the imperial robe, Beethoven — a determined repub-
lican— changed his title of ' Sinfonia de Napoleon ' to ' Death of a Hero :'
suggested, we might fancy, by the reflection that the act in question luas the
death of Ms hero.
* * Music and Friends,' p. G86.
'liiPfSW^.
[Belgiave Sciuare .]
CXXXVIIL— THE SQUARES OF LONDON.
HE English '' Square" is peculiar to the country. The Piazza, Place, Platz,
r Ital}^ France, and German}^, have little in common with it. Its elements are
mple enough : — An open space, of a square figure (or a figure approximating
I the square), houses on each of the four sides, and an enclosed centre, with turf,
few trees, and it may be flowers or a statue — there is a square. Yet the verdant
i>liage and ever-green turf on earth, and the ever-varying features of our rarely
joudless sky, freely revealed by the opening amid a forest of houses, lend a charm
) every square; and simple though these elements be, they are susceptible of an
ifinite multiplicity of ?z?/a7zce5 of character. No disrespect to the high architec-
iral beauties of many a continental *' place," there is a freshness and repose
bout an English square more charming than them all.
The square, like many other good things in this world — as, for example, roast-
ig {teste Elia), the lyre (vide the legend of Mercury and the tortoise-shell), and
le theory of gravitation (Newton's apple, to wit) — appears to have been in a
reat measure an accidental invention. Seeking to make something else, men
umbled upon the square, as the alchymists, in trying to make gold, stumbled
pon truths compared with which the purest gold is valueless. Nor is it very
VOL. VI. o
194 LONDON.
long since the discovery was made. The oldest squares that we know of are in
London ; and the oldest of the London squares, so far as our antiquarian re-
searches have enabled us to discover, is Covent Garden. It was begun by
Francis, fourth Earl of Bedford, in the early part of the reign of Charles I.
The earl contemplated a piazza^ Italian in fashion as well as in name. Inigo
Jones was employed as his architect, and commenced the erection of a piazza,
one side of which was to be formed by a church, two more by houses with an open
arched pathway in front under their first stories, and the fourth in all probability
by the earl's garden wall — if he did not contemplate a stately palace fronting to
the piazza. By one of those strange perversions of foreign designations so common
in all languages, the name piazza has come to be applied exclusively to the covered
pathway ; and the open space was called the square, until the superior importance
of the market and the desertion of fashionable inhabitants degraded it to Covent
Garden Market.
The square of Covent Garden, though commenced so early, was probably not
completed till after the Restoration ; at least, the names of some of the streets
abutting upon it seem to belong to that later era. In 1657, William, fifth Earl
of Bedford, and John and Edward Russell, Esqrs., were abated 7000Z. from the
amount of the fines they had incurred under the Act to prevent the increase of
buildings in and near London, in consideration of the great expenses which the
family had incurred in erecting the chapel and improving the neighbourhood.
This looks as if building were still in progress, and had not begun to pay.
The age of Charles II. was one in which the erection of squares took a decided
start. Leicester and Lincoln's Inn Fields owe their origin as squares to that
period. It was then that Soho Square sprung into existence, and that handsome
Harry Jermyn, who, though a coxcomb, and exposed to have his head turned by
the love of a queen, appears to have had as steady an eye to the main chance as
any Cubitt of his age, laid the foundations of St. James's Square. Panton Square
certainly (we have documentary evidence to the fact), and, to judge by their
architecture, Bridgewater Square (Barbican) and Queen Square (Westminster)
date from this reign. Wren, Evelyn, and other kindred spirits, endeavoured tc
promote the taste for this innovation. The learned would have given them finei
names ; but the most sovereign citizens of London were resolved that they shoulc
be simple squares, and nothing but squares. Makers of books waged war against
the word for a long time, bat unavailingly. In 1732, Maitland wrote about *'th(
stately Quadrate, denominated King's Square, but vulgarly Soho Square ;" anc
the phrase is retained in the edition of 1756. This, we think, is the lates
struggle against the word square, and the most signal discomfiture of its adver
saries ; for not only hsLS square sui)evseded quadrate, but the "vulgar" Sohoh^''
outlived the Kinf/. Every extension of the metropolis since the Revolution ha:
brought with it an addition to its squares : it would be alike idle and tedious t(
attempt to trace the history of their growth further in detail. In 1734 then
were only .50 squares in the metropolis— including some in the suburbs bothnortl
and south of the Thames, and some of these, though dignified with the naini
of square, look marvellously like courts : at present there must be upwards o
100 genuine squares.
It was remarked above that there is great diversity in the characters of squares
THE SQUARES OF LONDON. 195
simple though the elements be that compose them. It is possible, however, to
classify the squares of London into four grand divisions. The first embraces all
j the squares west of Regent Street : these may be called the fashionable squares.
Two other divisions are situated between Regent Street on the west, and
Gray's Inn Lane and Chancery Lane on the east. ; Holborn and Oxford Street
form the line of demarcation between them. South of that line arc situated the
squares which, having once been the seats of fashion, and still bearing on their
exterior the traces of faded greatness, have descended to become the haunts of
busy trading life. North of it are the squares of which Mr. Croker knew nothing;
inhabited by the aristocracy of the law, among whom mingle wealthy citizens and
the more solid class of literati. Eastward of Gray's Inn and Chancery Lanes are
the obsolete, or purely City squares. There are anomalous squares within some
of these divisions. For example, but for its locality Finsbury Square might
properly be classed among those of the third division ; as, for a similar reason.
Red Lion Square in the third, and Queen Square in the second division, have
most analogy with the squares of the fourth ; and Cadogan Square is first cousin
to Russell Square. But similar obstinate exceptions from all rule, it is known to
philosophers, will always bid defiance to efforts at classification based upon a com-
bination of geographical distribution and characteristic features. In this arrange-
ment, too, we refer only to our immediate subject — the Squares of London. In
all the suburbs squares are now springing up like mushrooms : some of them
(Hoxton and Kensington, for example) boast of squares of a venerable antiquity.
The Squares of London vary much in regard to the extent of ground they
occupy. According to Mr. Britton, Bel grave Square measures 684 feet by 637,
but the gardens belonging to the detached villas considerably augment the real
and still more the apparent area. Eaton Square, adjoining, occupies an extent
of 1637 by 371 feet. Cadogan Square is 1450 by 370 feet ; Grosvenor Square
measures 654 feet square; Lincoln's Inn Fields, 773 by 624 feet; Portman
Square, 500 by 400 feet; Bryanstone Square, 814 by 198 feet; Montague Square,
820 by 156 feet; Russell, Euston, and Park Squares are all of large dimensions.
It is not, however, always the largest square that tells the most effectively in
relieving the sense of oppression from being long in City pent. The rapid de-
! clivity of Berkeley Square, and the gardens of Lansdowne and Devonshire houses
' at one end of it, by affording a wider range than the mere square to the eye,
leave the impression of more open space. In Leicester Square a similar effect is
I produced by the mere declivity of the ground. The combination of Mecklen-
burgh Square and Brunswick Square with the Foundling Hospital (into which,
I a placard tells us, no foundlings are admitted whose mothers do not present them-
! selves to the board in broad daylight) and its cabbage-garden between, produce
I an impression of extent in a different way — from our feeling that we do not see
I the whole at once. In most of the finest Squares of London (Belgrave is the only
exception we can at this moment call to our recollection) there is a considerable
slope of the ground.
Having always had 2i penchant for burying our dead out of our sight as quickly
as possible, we begin with the fourth division— the City Squares. They are not
numerous, and whatever may have once been the case, the dust of neglect and
desertion has filled up the characteristic lines of their features, leaving an in-
o2
196 LONDON.
tolerable sameness about them. Finsbury Square must be excepted from this
remark : it is one of the third class which has by accident strayed into the City —
" a sunbeam that hath lost its way." The rest — Charterhouse Square, Brido-e-
water Square (Barbican), Devonshire Square (Bishopsgate), Wellclose Square.
Warwick Square, and even the little Squares of Gough and Salisbury, have a
strong clannish likeness. In Maitland's day they were inhabited by *^ people of
fiishion," ''people of distinction," ''the better class of merchants," and so forth.
Wellclose was originally called Marine Square, from being a favourite residence
of naval officers. " How altered now ! " Enter Bridgewatcr Square, and its
ornamented edifices, with rubbed brick quoins and facings — its Brobdignaggian
scallop-shells over some of the doors, remind one of its former state. But, like
Wordsworth's * Hart-leap Well,' '^ something ails it now," the place is — no,
not quite so bad as the poet makes it, though grim and gloomy enough it
looks. The elevation of the turf in the central enclosure reminds one of
those minikin open spaces with green turf on them, which one so often stumbles
upon in the Cit}^ and which might delude a stranger with the notion that
they were the first attempts at squares — something between the court and the
square — child-Svquares, in short, but which are in reality the fallow church-
yards of churches not rebuilt since the great fire. In accordance with this
gloomy view, we find on the windows of every alternate house a bill, '' To let,
unfurnished ;" and see, staring us from a window on the south-side, the terrific
inscription, Gibbet, Auctioneer (for the most minute inspection can scarcely
detect the small pica (.) between the colossal G. and I,), surmounted by two per-
pendicular coffins, closed, yet reminding us of the " open presses" seen by Tarn
o' Shanter, in AUoway Kirk. Scarcely less grim, though more spacious, is the
Charterhouse Square. . The line of dead wall, the antique monastic building, the
iron-gates at either entry into the square, and the soot- encumbered semi-vegeta-
tion of the trees, produce almost as depressing an effect as the sepulchral habita-
tions of Bridgewatcr Square. The other City Squares have more of life and
humanity in their outward show. This is especially the case with Wellclose
Square : probably the elastic spirits of the gallant tars, who were its earliest
occupants, lent a light-heartedness to the very atmosphere that has never since
deserted it. But however dull and desolate these squares may seem to the casual
visitant (no such fancies dim the minds of the residents: there is probably more
constant sunshine of the soul there than among more splendid regions of the metro-
polis), there are associations that tempt us at times to revisit them. In the quiet
of Charterhouse Square we are carried back to the times when knightly penitents
sought consolation from its cloistered owners ; when the neighbouring Smithfield,
instead of being a receptacle for live beef and mutton, was the scene of tourna-
ments, and, yet more horribly attractive, of the triumph of those martyrs whose
blood was the seed of the Reformed Church. Bridgewatcr Square occupies the
site of the mansion of a family from which sprang the earliest promoter of that
chain of inland water communication which has done so much to develop the
resources of England. Devonshire Square was the spot in which lingered the
last lady of rank, who clung to her ancestral abode in the City. Gough Square
is still haunted by the Eidolon of Johnson ; and Richardson's ghost, nervous and
coy, as in life, revisits the glimpses of the moon in Salisbury Square.
THE SQUARES OF LONDON. 197
Pass we on to a class of squares of more pretensions in their outer show, and
I with more robust vitality still animating them — the Squares of Lincoln s Inn
Fields, Soho, Covent Garden, Leicester, and Golden. Covcnt Garden^ as we have
already noticed, is the oldest of our squares; the story of its origin has been told
before, and, ere we close, we must again return to it. So here let it suffice to
remind the reader that Sir Peter Lely and Roger North have lived in the Piazzas ;
that Hogarth's club had its meetings there ; that the Old Hummums was long the
favourite resort of the subaltern heroes of the Peninsular war ; and that the ad-
ventures of the neighbourhood have supplied matter for the pens of Congreve and
Fielding. The Old Hummums, by the way, was the scene of what Johnson called
the best accredited ghost story he ever heard of. The ghost, that of Ford, the
parson of Hogarth's * Midnight modern Conversation,' appeared to the waiter;
and as the scene was the cellar, and the ghost said nothing, possibly it had been
purloining beer, and was too drunk to speak.
Lincoln's Inn Fields is, in point of antiquit}^, the next square to Covent Garden.
In 1659, James Cooper, Robert Henley, and Francis Finch, Esqrs., and other
owners of *' certain parcels of ground in the Fields, commonly called Lincoln's
Inn Fields, were exempted from all forfeitures and penalties they might incur in
regard to any new buildings they might erect ' on three sides of the same fields,*
previously to the 1st of October in that year: provided that they paid for the
public service one year's full value for every such house, within one month of its
rection ; and provided that they should convey the ' residue of the said fields'
Ito the Society of Lincoln's Inn, for laying the same into walks, for common use
'|and benefit; whereby the annoyances which formerly have been in the same
fields will be taken away, and passengers there for the future better secured."
On the west side of the square, sometimes called Arch Row, are the most ancient
houses. They have originally been spacious, and are ornamented with Ionic
pilasters. At the corner of Great Queen Street is Newcastle House,, the
residence, in his day, of the Duke of Newcastle (vide Horace Walpole and
Humphrey Clinker), probably the most eccentric statesman Britain has ever
known. The central enclosure is one of the largest and finest of these public
gardens in London. Much of the square is now used as chambers by solicitors,
iWho have in some instances adapted noble mansions to their use, by cutting them
nto more than one, just as in some towns of Scotland the economical Presbyterians
iiave sometimes carved half a dozen kirks out of one cathedral. The Society of
Useful Knowledge once had its chambers here, but has left it for Bedford Square.
The surgeons,, whose hall and theatre are the principal ornament of the south
iide of the square, still stand their ground. The new law buildings harmonise
inely with the associations of the neighbourhood, and promise to be a worthy
completion to the square.
Soho Square arose during the reign of Charles II. It was once called Mon-
nouth Square, the Duke of Monmouth inhabiting a house in it on the site of
Bateman's Buildings. There is a tradition that, on the death of the duke, his
jidmirers changed the name to Soho — the word at the battle of Sedgmoor. An
tttempt was made to force the name of King Square upon it, which failed. About
he accession of George III., Soho was the gayest square in London. Here were
^ornely's masquerades and balls, the suppers at which were alleged to be more
198
LONDON.
elegant than abundant. The houses, numbered 20 and 21, were originally only ^''
one mansion; and it witnessed the confidential orgies of George IV. when Prince
of Wales. Graver associations clung to it, we were about to say, as we remem
bered that it had once contained the residence of Sir Joseph Banks, but the
recollection of Peter Pindar, and the ' Emperor of Morocco,' checked the phrase. "=-
The externals of Soho Square have little to recommend them; but most of the
houses are spacious, the staircases striking and architecturally disposed, and
many of them ornamented with pannel paintings of high merit. Continenta
literature and geography have here fixed their abode with Dulau and Arrow
smith, and the apartments are much in request with artists.
lo'
[Soho S,|uaie.j
Leicester House, from which the square derives its name, of which it was
indeed the nucleus, was built before the civil war ; but the square itself is nol
older than the beginning of last century. It has had its day of splendour — whel
Leicester House was the pouting place of the first Princes of Wales of the Hano-
verian dynasty — but it is sadly faded now. Hogarth occupied the house after-
wards converted into the Sablonniere Hotel, and at a later time Sir Joshua Rey
nolds a house on the opposite side of the square. John Hunter lived and formed
his museum in Leicester Square ; and in a house in Lisle Place, immediatelj
adjoining it. Sir Charles Bell made his discoveries respecting the nervous system
Latterly the square has been infested with hotels for the questionable class 01
foreigners, wine-shades, and the like. But '* Leicester's busy square " will bt
* It is now the house of the dullest of London Societies — the Liunaean : no, not the dullest; we had forgottei
the Statistical.
THE SQUARES OF LONDON. 199
membercd as the scene of Wordsworth's moon-gazers; and the new streets now
ening may, if the plan of offering sites in it to the leading scientific societies be
Tried out, bring to it a second life of interest and external show, transcending
en the first.
The interest of Golden Square — nearly coeval with Soho— is almost entirely
omestic. It is the most melancholy of all the squares of this rc^rion the most
early approaching to those of the City. Queen Square (Westminster) and
anton Square (Piccadilly) — also babes of the tipsy days of Charles II. are
iiite City in their characteristics. Trafalgar Square (Charing Cross) will be
oticed hereafter.
Remaining westward of Regent Street, but crossing to the north of Holborn
nd Oxford Streets, we come into a region of what may be called comfortable
juares, as contrasted with the />«556' appearance of Lincoln's Inn Fields or Bridge-
ater Square, and their respective class-fellows on one hand, or with the imposing
ppearance of the west-end squares on the other. They are linked with the
iden time through the instrumentality of Russell Square, once a fashionable
?gion. One side of it was originally occupied by the mansion of the Bedford
imily ; and Horace Walpole mentions having visited there. Lord Mansfield's
ouse Avas in the adjoining corner to the east ; and here occurred one of the most
estructive bursts of the ferocious mob of Lord George Gordon. A more
leasing recollection is, that Bloomsbury Square was the widowed residence of
iady Rachel Russell. But the tide of fashion has rolled westward, and left
tussell Square to be inhabited by the aristocracy of the City and the Inns of
'ourt. A new element has been added to this society by the foundation of the
.ondon University and the vicinity of the British Museum. The scientific section
f London literary men has thereby been attracted to this region. The wealth}^
ho had no particular ambition of belonging to the first fashion, have long been
ttracted to this quarter by its proximity to the open fields ; and the formation
f the Regent's Park has proved an additional inducement. A society is here
)rmed which already rivals that of the west end, as the noblesse of robe and the
Lch fermiers-general rivalled in ante-revolutionary France the high aristocrac^^
There is clustering around Bloomsbury Square a whole nucleus of squares, all
Dmely, and some elegant, but all modern and middle-class, and devoid of asso-
iations to tempt us to linger in them. North of Bloomsbury is Russell Square,
Q the site of the former house and o^rounds of the Dukes of Bedford. West of
Lussell Square is Bedford Square, which in its architecture reminds one of the
Ider west-end squares; and to the east, passing along Guildford Street, are
>aeen Square, and (what may be considered as one very striking and interesting
juare) Brunswick and Mecklenburgh Squares, with the Foundling Hospital and
rounds between them. To the north of this range of squares is a group con-
sting of Torrington, Woburn, Gordon, Tavistock, and Euston Squares, all new,
pruce, and uninteresting. Fitzroy Square is the monument of a failure. With
reat architectural pretensions, it is ponderous, and never took with the public.
ts vicinity is much affected by artists, who find it convenient to live between
leir aristocratic patrons and employers in the west-end squares, and their pos-
bly more lucrative employers in the houses of commons which surround the
>edford Square group.
•200 LONDON.
We cannot quit this region without a word about the most disconsolate
square in London — Red Lion Square. It is as deserted as the most deserted of
those previously named, but has none of the gloom that wraps them. It is a
bare and sterile desert, exposed in the full light of day. It is prosaic in the
extreme ; while they resemble ruins inspiring moonlight melancholy, it resembles
a bare and sterile common thronged with passengers, in the sultry noon of
summer. There was once an obelisk in the centre, but now there is nothing but
a square edifice of blackened boards, the use of which it is difficult to conjecture.
It is in the west-end squares that the characteristics of this feature of the
English metropolis are most perfectly developed ; and on this account it may
reward the trouble to examine them more in detail. Commencing therefore
with the oldest — St. James's Square — we shall request the pleasure of tlie
reader's company in a stroll through them.
St. James's Square is noticed by two of our best domestic historians — Eveljn
and Horace Walpole. The former saw it in its infancy, the latter in the vigour
of manhood. It may have a little declined into the sere and yellow leaf, be less
fresh than it once Avas ; but it is still, in external show, the most truly aristocratic
square in London. The houses have a look of old nobility about them. The cir-
cular sheet of water in the centre of the enclosure makes little appearance from the
'pavc, but is a beautiful ornament as seen from the first- floor windows. William III.
is the tutelar genius of the place, and a fitter could not be found fur the favourite
haunt of the king whose elevation to the throne transferred the sceptre for a
time to the nobility of England. His statue ornaments the centre of the square.
The corner house, on the right hand, as you enter from Pall Mall, is Norfolk
House, in which George IIL was born. Next door lives the Bishop of London;
and fronting his Grace, on the opposite side of the square, the Bishop of Win-
chester. It is fitting that bishops should live under the segis of him who
turned out the king who committed the seven bishops to the Tower. It is also
fitting that they should affect the square around which the future champion of
high churchism, Samuel Johnson, has walked all night with Savage, when
neither could find a lodging. No. 11, in the north-west corner, the mansion of
the Wyndham Club, perpetuates the name of one of the most accomplished
of English statesmen, whose memory would deserve to be held in honour were it
only for his devoted attachment to Burke. There is something beautiful ex-
ceedingly in the enduring love of an intelligent for a great man. As beseems a
club bearing the name of Wyndham, its library is one of the best in London.
The memories of the foes of Warren Hastings haunt St. James's Square. The
house between the Earl of Lichfield's and that of the late Marquess of
Londonderry (better known by the name of Castlereagh) was the residence
of Sir Philip Francis. What an association 1 The birth-place of George III. in
the same square with the house of Junius ! The future writer of the history of
this, our own age, will also find the local habitation of historical names in this
square. Here Byng, for more than ten lustres the Whig champion on the Mid-
dlesex hustings, resides close by Lord Stanley, whose power as an orator that
party has felt both ways ; and not far distant from either is the scene of the
J_jichfield House compact. The row of houses between St. James's Square and
Pall Mall are less stately than those on the other side of the square, and turn
THE SQUARES OF LONDON. 201
their back -fronts to it, in the same manner, and for the same reason probabW,
that Mrs. McLartie's servant, in the ' Cottagers of Glenburnie,' is said to have
turned her back on the family when supj^ing- along Avith them— as an expression
of humility. Some of them, at least, are lodging-houses: we remember a whole
detachment of the Irish parliamentary brigade quartered in one. Like these
dwellings in the square, rather than of'ii, are the Ercchtheium and Navy and
Army Clubs, entering severally from York and King Streets, and havino- windows
looking into the square. The Colonial Club, like the Wyndham, fairly made a
lodgment in it, having occupied for a time the mansion once inhabited by Sir
Philip Francis. It has now shifted its place to the corner house, next door to
the Bishop of Winchester, and looks as if it meditated slipping out of the square
altogether.
We now proceed up York Street, along Piccadilly, and turn through Berkeley
Street, into Berkeley Square. This square, as Malcolm has observed before us,
is worthy of notice rather on account of the inequality of the ground, so much
greater than is easily found in London, than ior anything remarkable in its
buildings. It was this picturesque character of the district that attracted the
Berkeleys, Devonshires, and Clarendons of a former day to plant their mansions
near it. The south, or lower side of the square, is occupied by the wall of a
garden, in which stands a stone house of rather heavy proportions, built in 17G5,
by the favourite (or more properly the reputed favourite) Bute, and sold by him
incomplete to the Earl of Shelburne, afterwards Marquess of Lansdowne, whose
designation it bears. Here were once lodged the LansdoAvne MSS., now in
the British Museum. The centre of the square is (not) ornamented by a huge
statue of George III., on a clumsy pedestal. '' The charming Lady Mary Mon-
tague'* died in this square, and what would have teased her more than dying, an
obituary notice was penned by another old woman, as sarcastic as herself — Horace
Walpole. Hill Street, issuing from the west side of the square, reminds us of
Hay Hill, granted by Queen Anne to the Speaker of the House of Commons,
greatly to the horror of the political purists of that immaculate day. Is it this
parliamentary association that has induced a Speaker nearer our own times.
Lord Canterbury, to take up his residence in this square? There is no other
modern notoriety connected with this place, nor many historical associations,
except some which relate to the Berkeley family. It was here, however, if we
mistake not, that the nobleman resided who was murdered one night by his
butler, whose committal to Newgate made George Selwyn exclaim, " Good God,
what an idea he'll give the convicts of us I " Berkeley Square, however, owing
to its sloping position, and the open wooded space between it and the Green
Park, is one of the most airy and picturesque of our squares. Some of the
interiors are fine, having halls and staircases from designs by Kent. It is also
one of the oldest squares^ dating from the reign of Queen Anne.
We pass onwards in a north-west direction till we reach Grosvenor Square. It
jderives its name (along with Grosvenor Street, and Grosvenor Gate in Hyde Park)
jfrom Sir Richard Grosvenor, a mighty builder in his day, who was cupbearer at
the coronation of George IL, and died in 1732. The centre is a spacious garden,
laid out by Kent, and is worthy of his landscape-gardening powers. The houses
are diversified in their architectural character ; the fronts are some of brick and
202 LONDON.
stone, some of rubbed bricks, with their quoins, windows, and door- cases oF stone.
They have all the finest feature of a British nobleman's mansion — spaciousness.
We do not meet here with the shabby attempt, so common to other parts of the
metropolis, to create a false appearance of greatness, by lending the face of one
great building to two, three, or more comparatively small houses. The extent
of the square (six acres) requires houses of a large size to tell: small ones would
be lost around it. Within the enclosure is an equestrian statue of George I.,
almost hidden in summer by the surrounding foliage. It was made by Van Nost,
and erected by Sir Richard Grosvenor in 1726, near the redoubt called Oliver's
Mount ; for the line of fortifications erected by the Londoners during the civil
wars ran across the space now occupied by Grosvenor Square. In March, 17*27,
the Jacobites one night attached a placard to the statue, noAvays flattering to the
original or his family. This square continues to be a favourite residence of the
oldest titled families, notwithstanding the persevering efforts of the Minerva
Press novelists and their successors of the silver-fork school, to vulgarise it.
The Earl of Grosvenor occupies, we observe, a stately mansion about the centre
of the north side : possibly he may have been attracted to it by such a notion as
Samuel Johnson once expressed while resident in Johnson's Court — a desire to
be '' Grosvenor of that ilk."
A short walk along North Audley Street, across Oxford Street, and up Orchard
Street, brings us to Portman Square. The building of this square commenced
in 1764, but twenty years elapsed before it was completed. In extent it is equal
to Grosvenor Square, the central enclosure is equally well laid out, and the houses
are all but equally imposing in appearance. Portman Square appears, however,
to be a shade less a favourite with the high nobility — possibly because it is a little
further from the Park, and deeper in the mass of houses. The north-west angle
of Portman Square is occupied by Montague House, once the residence of the
queen of the blues. Here were the feather-hangings sung by Cowper, here Miss
Burney was welcomed, and here Sam Johnson for a moment grew tame. It was
the custom of Mrs. Montague to invite annually all the little chimney-sweepers in
the metropolis to a regale in her house and garden, " that they might enjoy one
happy day in the year." These May-day festivals have ceased, as have those of
Jem White, celebrated by Elia : but, in recompense, there is reason to hope that
the day of the sufferings of little chimney-sweeps also is passing away. The
well-wooded garden of Montague House adds to the charm of Portman Square.
It was at one time ornamented (?) by a moveable kiosk, erected by a Turkish
ambassador who occupied the house, and who used there to smoke his pipe sur-
rounded by his train.
Montague Square and Bryanstone Square are twin deformities, the former ox
which is placed immediately in the rear of Montague House. They are long
narrow strips of ground, fenced in by two monotonous rows of flat houses. In the
centre of the green turf which runs up the middle of Bryanstone Square is a
dwarf weeping ash, which resembles strikingly a gigantic umbrella or toad-stool,
and in the corresponding site in Montague Square is a pump, with a flower-pot
shaped like an urn on the top of it. A range of balconies runs along the front
of the houses in Bryanstone Square; but the inmates appear to entertain dismal
apprehensions of the thievish propensities of their neighbours, for between every
THE SQUx\RES OF LONDON. 203
two balconies is introduced a terrible cbevaux-dc-frise. The mansions in
Montague Square are constructed after the most approved Brighton fashion, each
with its little bulging protuberance to admit of a peep into the neighbours'
parlours. These two oblongs, though dignified with the name of squares,
belong rather to the anomalous " places " which economical modern builders
contrive to carve out of the corners of mews-lanes behind squares, and dispose
with a profit to those who wish to live near the great.
Keturning to Portman Square, we bend our course eastward to Manchester
Square. Manchester House, which occupies the north side of the square, was
commenced in 1776 : the square was not completed till 1788. A square, to be
called Queen Anne's Square, with a church in the centre, had been contemplated
itt the reign of that Queen, but the plan was not carried into effect. The ground,
lying waste, was purchased by the Duke of Manchester, the house erected upon
it, and his title given to the square that grew up in front of it. On the sudden
death of the duke in 1788, his mansion was purchased by the King of Spain as a
residence for his ambassador. It subsequently came into the possession of the
Marquess of Hertford ; but has remained in a great measure a diplomatic
palace. It is at present occupied by Count St. Aulaire, the French ambassador.
It is indeed a princely mansion. The other houses of the square have nothing
remarkable about them. Yet will this square live in song, as witness the classical
ode of Tom Browne the Younger : —
*' Or who will repair
Unto Manchester Square
And see if the lovely Marchesa be there ?
Oh bid her come with her hair darkly flowing ;
All gentle and juvenile, crispy and gay,
In the manner of Ackermaim's dresses for May."
Cavendish Square and Hanover Square, north and south of Oxford Street,
have, from their proximity, the appearance of being connected by the ligature of
a short street. They were commenced about the same time. Cavendish Square
was planned in 1715, and the ground laid out two years afterwards. Hanover
Square was not built in 1716 : in 1720 it is mentioned in plans of London.
The large gloomy mansion, enclosed by a blank wall, on the west side of
Cavendish Square, now occupied by the Duke of Portland, was built by Lord
Bingley, the foundation-stone being laid in 1722. The north side consisted ori-
ginally of four houses, of considerable architectural merit ; but some Goth has
lecently erected a staring yellow structure between two of them. The Duke of
Chandos — Pope's contemporary — purchased the whole of this side of the square,
intending to erect a magnificent mansion upon it. Only the two wings, however,
were erected — the two end houses. The two centre houses, ultimately built
instead of a central mansion, are fine buildings of Portland stone. It was not
here, but in Chandos House, Chandos Street, that the terrible blow struck the
(jrand duke, as he was called, which brought him to his grave. Preparations
with which all England had rung were made for the christening of his infant heir;
the King and Queen stood sponsors in person ; the child was seized with convul-
|sions in the nurse's arms, and died during the ceremony, the presumed cause
being the excessive glare of light. The domestic annals of England do not
204 LONDON.
record such another withering rebuke of vain ostentation. The duke died soon
after ; and the duchess shut herself up in the house which had witnessed the
blasting of her hopes, where she moped till death released her. To return to
Cavendish Square — the central statue of the Duke of Cumberland, and the Revo-
lution title of Portland, supply associations that render it an appropriate partner
to Hanover Square. It is strange how whiggish most of our Squares of any
standing are : the new ones may have more of the other side when they are old
enough to have historical associations.
Oxford Square was originally intended to have been the name, but adulation of
the new dynasty suggested the change to Hanover. A list of the original occu-
pants has been preserved: they are almost all Generals. This is characteristic i
of the early period of the revolutionary era, when standing armies grew up inj
consequence of the country being so much more implicated in Continental brawls;!
and because they were needed to put down the feudal retainers of the Tory chiefs j
—a feat beyond the powers of the City " trained bands." There is another charac- 1
teristic of the first Georgian era that clung to Hanover Square : its progress was
for many years impeded by the bursting of bubbles, from 1718 to 17:20. There is
something peculiar to this square in the approach from the south. The street joins j
its centre, and the houses on either side converge as they recede from the square.
This gives the ground-plan somewhat the appearance of a gridiron — the church i
of St. George supplying the nob of the handle. Hanover Square forms, in some !
sort, a connecting link between the squares immediately west and those imme-
diately east of Regent Street; for though it has not lost all its original bright-
ness, nor had its excess of glory obscured, something of its exclusivencss hath
departed from it. An hotel and a concert-room have a gravitating tendency to
bring it to the level of middle-class squares ; but to compensate for this it has
now become the site of the British and Foreign Institute, where, after playing in
turn the parts of mariner, editor, statesman, lecturer — after voyaging far beyond
the Pyrenean and the river Po — the perturbed spirit of Mr. James Silk Buck-
ingham, who, from the extent of his travels, is, since Ledyard, the person most
liable to the suspicion of being an incarnation of the w^andering Jew, may rest
from his labours, and sing " Home, sweet home."
Our subject now leads us to a subdivision of the West End squares of very
recent growth. The district immemorially known as Tlie Five Fields, " where the
robbers lie in wait," was laid out about twenty years ago by the noble pro-
prietor, with a view to its being constructed into streets and squares. The prin-
cipal part was engaged in 1825 by the Messrs. Cubitt, who immediately began |
raising the surface, and forming streets and communications. The whole of the
district was also intersected by immense sewers, which having a considerable fall
to the Thames, through a dry gravelly soil, secure even the lower stories against
damp. Such an advantage, together with the vicinity of the Parks and of the new
Pimlico Palace, rapidly attracted inhabitants. Tattersall's sees itself enclave in
London with astonishment; and Ranelagh, seeing the tide of fashionable houses
rising up towards it, bewails the precipitancy of its owners, in allowing it to be
covered by inferior houses, w^ater-works, and factories. The disconsolate scene
of gaiety in the olden time feels in the neighbourhood of the world of fashion like
la Goualease Q^ ^n^^QUQ Sue's 'Mysteres do Paris,' in the midst of her father's
THE SQUARES OF LOxNDON. 205
court. Its claim to mingle among the gay and noble lias hccn forfeited — Lv no
fault of its own — but still irrecoverably forfeited. It is a strange feelint'- with
hich one treads this new region of princely mansions, thinking of the duck-ponds
md clay-pits of one's boyhood. And to the old among us it is peopled with still
more unequivocally rural associations. A respectable builder, near Sloanc Street,
[las spoken to us of the nightingales which used to serenade him from his own
arden ; and a venerable septuagenarian remembers the time when, from
Norwood, he could see with a spy-glass his children sporting in the garden
behind his house in Grosvenor Place. The same venerable ancient has enjoyed
*an easy shave " in a one-storied shed occupied by a barber, which blocked up
vhat is now the entry into Hamilton Place, Piccadilly.
Youngest and most gorgeous of our squares is Belgrave Square, the vera
'ffigies of which, in our illustration, may spare us the labour of description.
The central space is, perhaps, too large to admit even of such large houses as
ire here telling, en masse, as a square. Perhaps, however, this is an advantage,
considering the locality. Belgrave Square is situated between town and country.
The houses are already becoming sensibly less dense, like a London fog, as one
ipproaches its outskirts. Hyde Park lies behind it : St. James's Park intervenes
between it and town; the great thoroughfares in the vicinity have more of the
oad in them than the street. In such a neighbourhood, a square confined enouf>'h
:o allow ofthe height of the houses being felt in proportion to the extent of the
p'ound-plan, would convey a sense of confinement — of oppression to the lungs,
;hough in the heart of the town it would feel as a relief. The isolated mansions
it the four corners, standing obliquely to the sides of the square, look like a hint
aken from the position of Montague House in Portman Square, and in conjunc-
ion with so spacious an area have a good effect. It may be prejudice on our part
—a home view, the consequence of our acsthetical faculty having been developed
imong the old squares, and received their impress so deep as to be indelible, —
)ut we should have better liked less uniformity in the architecture. We prefer
ndividual character in the houses : we do not like to see them merely parts of
m architectural whole, like soldiers, who are only parts of a rank. But this
•cgimental fashion is now the order of the day, and the young generation growing
ip among Belgrave Squares, Eaton Squares, and their humbler imitants, may
hink differently from what we do.
Eaton Square may claim a notice here, and along with it Euston Square, in a
ess aristocratical region, on account of their peculiar character. Squares proper
lave various entrances ; but in all of them the square is evidently the main thing,
nd the entrances subordinate to it. But for the names at the corners of Euston
square and Eaton Square, they might be taken for a mere bulging out of the
lighway which bisects them. They belong still more decidedly than Belgrave
Square to what geologists would call the transition formation — the structures
ntcrmediate between town and suburbs. The effect of the square, massive,
rotruding porches of Eaton Square is heavy; but this defect is amply redeemed
a the apprehension of any one who wanders through it on a summer evening,
y the use to which the ingenious inhabitants turn them. They are made
langing-gardens — may they have a longer lease of existence and a more
)rosperous end than those of Babylon ! — from which the breezes descend redolent
11
5(
)"[
V
206 LONDON.
of minionette, /' the fragrant weed, the Frenchman's darling." Euston Square
is remarkable for the caryatides of St. Pancras Church — would that it had a
better steeple, and that the range of ornaments along its eaves did not so
strikingly resemble pattipans ! At the centre of the north side of the square,
a little back from the line of houses, is a massive archway of good solid propor-
tions, the gateway to the terminus of the Birmingham Kailway. Of all the exits
from or entrances to those great modern vomitories of the metropolis, the railways,
this is the most striking. The terminus of the Great Western is in a pit ; that
of the South Western stands behind backs ; that of the Brighton, &c., comes
" slantendicular " on to the road. The terminus of the North Eastern may be
free from such blemishes, but our travels have not yet extended to that undis-
covered bourne in the far East.
Ought we or ought we not to say a word or two by way of appendix concerning
the suburban squares ? Unluckily, our acquaintance with them is not very ex-
tensive. And the most exigent reader, when he considers what a space the
suburbs of London spread over, will scarcely think we need be ashamed to make
the confession.
Of the squares beyond the river the only one we can charge our memory with a
particular recollection of is Kennington Oval, which is not a square any more
than Finsbury Circus, and which, moreover, seems to make little haste to com-
pletion, Kennington Common and Camberwell Green will, doubtless, be manu-
factured into squares ere long. Viewed as materiel they are not more hopeless
than were *' the five fields " upon which Belgrave Square has sprung up. Should
the park, of which there has been some talk as projected on the banks of the
river in Battersea-fields, ever become a reality, there will squares even be con-
structed around it.
Along the Mile-end Road and towards Stratford-le-Bow, where, unless Chaucer
misleads us, was the earliest fashionable boarding-school at which young ladies
were *' Frenched," there are some pretty enough common-place squares, which
have too little of individual character to leave a lasting impression. In Hoxton,
as has been already noticed, is Hoxton Square, the oldest of suburban squares.
Islington has a square or two, but the square does not appear to have as yet
extended towards Highgate. Camden Town and Kentish Town have places,
but, so far as we recollect, no squares. Crossing the Regent's Park, however,
to the S. W. we come upon Dorset Square — a square of a genteel enough cha-
racter. In the new town springing up to the north of the " terraces" and
" gardens '' which line the Oxford Road as it skirts Hyde Park, there are several
of colossal and somewhat ponderous squares yet unfinished.
It is, however, in the suburb which extends westward from Belgrave Square
that squares are to be found " thick as the leaves in Vallombrosa strewed."
Perhaps the reason may be that the example was set by Kensington Square at a
very early period. Between 1730 and 1740 we are certain that Kensington
Square was in existence, and a place of good fashion, for it was there that the
modest and immaculate Letitia Pilkington forced herself upon the Archbishop
of York to ask him to subscribe to her book. The appearance of some of the
houses bespeaks an antiquity at the least as great as this — the fashion of the
doors and windows -the huge scallop-shells over some of the doors. There-
THE SQUARES OF LONDON. 207
sidence of the Court at Kensington Palace naturally led some of the dignified
clergy and the nobility who held offices in the household to seek residences in the
neighbourhood, and hence a more courtly style of building than in other suburban
villages.
Next upon Kensington Square (so far as we have been able to learn) followed
the squares and places projected by Sir Hans Sloane in the town laid out by
him, and called Hans-Town, after himself, between Chelsea and Brompton.
There is Hans Place (Hexagonal), of which Mrs. Hall has declared, in her * Maid
Marian,' it is so quiet that the very cats who come to reside there unlearn the
art of mewing. There is Cadogan Square, which, from its peculiar relatio n to
Sloane Street, might have been classed along with Euston and Eaton Squares,
were it not, as Touchstone has it, ''like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.'* And
there is Sloane Square, as bare and intersected with crossings as Kennington
Common, as tiny in its proportions as Red Lion Square, and combining with a
rare excess of common-place all that is uninteresting in both.
Thus initiated as a land of squares, the fashion grew in Chelsea, Brompton, and
Kensington, and spread westward. Chelsea has its Trafalgar Square, or at
least two sides and a half of it ; and the houses in front of the College may assume
the airs of a square quite as legitimately as the squares of Mecklenburgh and
Brunswick already noticed. Brompton has Trevor Square ; Montpellier Square
(so called probably because it is more shut in from a free current of air than any
other) ; Brompton Square (which excludes the busy traffic of the world by its
gates) ; Alexander Square, which is not a square, nor anything else to which a
bame can be given, and Thurlow Square, yet unfinished. And, lastly, Kensington
ihas, in addition to Kensington Square proper, Pembroke Square, plain enough
m its exterior, and not unaptly characterised by the beer-shop at the corner ; and
JEdward Square, which we are glad to find last on the list of suburban squares,
IS we would fain part from them with an agreeable impression. Edward Square
stands behind backs. It is directly at the back of the range of houses that front
to Holland House, and it stands sidling backward from Pembroke Square. The
bouses are all sn\all, yet the central enclosure is more spacious and more tastefully
aid out than in many squares that force themselves ostentatiously upon notice.
This delicious square, thus stowed away in a corner, must have been designed by
jne who wished to carry the finest amenities of Patrician life into the domestic
labits of the narrowest incomed families of the middle class. We regret to add
jthat so delightful a plan did not originate with an Englishman: Edward Square
Iwas a Frenchman's speculation.
We return to town before we conclude, to notice an innovation : in addition to
l^he novel structure and architecture of these new squares, London is getting
maces as well as squares. By places are meant the continental vacuums of that
jaame, not the rows of houses which have hitherto been so designated in England,
because nobody could invent another name for them. Waterloo Place, and the
ladjoining opening from which the Duke of York's pillar arises, is of this class ;
jmd a very fine one it is, owing to its connection with St. James's Park by a
broad flight of steps. Trafiilgar Square, when finished, will be another, though
30 much can scarcely be said in its ])raise. What with the effeminate archi-
iccturc of the National Gallery, the hideous caricature of Nelson's statue, the
208
LONDON.
portentous tail of the Northumberland lion (like nouf^ht earthly but the pigtail
of an old sailor, or the caudal appendage of a pointer at a dead-set), the show}^
vulgarity of the buildings extending from St. Martin's Church to the statue at
Charing Cross, one can only compare the collection to a child's attempt to
construct a fine group out of Noah's arks and jolter-headed wooden dolls. If the
pigtail statue from Pall Mall East is moved hitherward, the resemblance will be
complete. It is odds but Charles I., indignant at being surrounded by such a
crockery-shop, claps spurs to his horse and rides off. It was a less lacerating
injury that set in motion the stone statue of the commandant in ' Don Juan.'
At the Mansion House they are gradually excavating a place, which promises
to be fine, though irregular. The Bank, the Exchange, and the Mansion House
will make a goodly City place, if they are contented to remain prosaic and
modern, as befits the City. The Duke of Wellington, on an oblong pedestal,
like good King Charles at Charing Cross, may be tolerated ; but let us have no
columns, with mast-headed Admirals on them, to render the centre of London's
busy commerce and civic authority a parody upon the forum of Rome. It would
be expensive to open a place around St. Paul's by the demolition of the houses
between the cathedral and Paternoster Row. That a wide terraced opening
down to the river should be made is scarcely within the range of probability.
But we could scarcely wish to see the approach by Fleet Street and Ludgate Hill
altered; for to us there is a charm in the glimpses we catch of Wren's 5(?W2Z-
reducta Venus (a somewhat colossal one, it must be admitted), which we catch up
the winding ascent.
Covent Garden, with its balustraded market, has also more of the place than
the square. And here we close our desultory remarks where we began them,
having, like the snake, emblem of Eternity, brought our head round to our tail;
having, like John Gilpin, neither stinted nor stayed,
•' Nor stopped till wliere we first got up
We have again got down."
[Bridge water Square.
[Ilail of the Company.]
CXXXIX.— THE STATIONERS' COMPANY.
Phe history of the Stationers' Company furnishes probably the most terse and
orcible illustration of the progress of literature in England that can well be
!;iven. Let us merely glance at three phases of the history. The first takes us
ack to the days when our chief booksellers and publishers were men who wrote
hat they sold, and with whom, of course, calligraphy was the best stock in trade
pr a young bookseller to commence business upon ; and when the learning and
iteratureof the country demanded, as their chief food, A B C s and Paternosters,
Lves and Creeds, Graces and Amens, with portions of the Scriptures for the
jiore ambitious, and occasionally for the very wealthy and very learned a
iironicle history, or a copy of the Canterbury Talcs. Such were the members
t the Stationers' Company, such their avocations, prior to the fifteenth century ;
!id of which the names of Paternoster Row, Amen Corner, and Ave-Maria Lane,
:re a perpetual testimony.
I But as if the Divine voice had said for a second time. Let there be light —
rinting dawned upon the world, and the effect produced during the first century
I' its operations is clearly exhibited in what we may call the second phase of the
ompany's history. Just one hundred and one years after the introduction of
e art into this country by Caxton, we find certain parties petitioning the Queen,
lizabeth, for the sole printing of ballads, damask paper, and books in prose or
etre, a medley of objects that seems to imply a consciousness of the growing
VOL. VI. P
210 LONDON.
national literature, with a delightful unconsciousness as to the definite state it
might assume, and a tradesman's prudent caution not to risk too much upon such
a speculation : poetry, philosophy, and education might do, but the damasks
paper would, at all events, be an excellent adjunct. A good idea, no doubt, for
the time, but many a publisher of the present day, who can make his damask-
paper sell /or the poetry, the philosophy, the — in short, whatever he likes to call
it, by virtue of the semblance of rhyme or reason he causes to be impressed upon
it, must smile at the inartistical character of those early trade arrangements. To
the petitioners in question the Company of Stationers started up in reply, and
its statement* furnishes a most interesting and somewhat amusing view of
English literature, just before the Shaksperes and Ben Jonsons, the Massingers,
and Beaumont and Fletchers arose, to place it at its culminating point of splen-
dour. We learn from it that the proposed privilege would have been the over-
throw of a multitude of families, since it was by the printing of such books that
the Company was then maintained. We learn also from it that literature was
already growing too rich a thing, in a commercial sense, for the Stationers' Com-
pany to be left in quiet possession of; that slice after slice was cut off by its own
members for their individual enjoyment; that it was, in other words, dividing
itself into departments, each of such importance as to be made the object of
special privilege from royalty, and therefore, of course, each worth the purchasing
by a pretty round sum, the usual mode of obtaining privileges. It is important
here to observe that, in exercising its power over the productions of the press,
there was a general governmental motive of infinitely higher importance than
the particular royal ones we have referred to, both which worked very harmo-
niously together. '' On the first introduction of printing it was considered, as
well in England as in other countries, to be a matter of state. The quick and
extensive circulation of sentiments and opinions which that invaluable art intro-
duced could not but fall under the gripe of governments, whose principal strength
was built upon the ignorance of the people who were to submit to them. The
press was therefore wholly under the coercion of the crown, and all printing, not
only of public books containing ordinances, religious or civil, but every species ol
publication whatever, was regulated by the king's proclamations, prohibitions,
charters of privilege, and finally by the decrees of the Star Chamber,"! of which
the Company of Stationers were said in the last century to be the '^ literary con-
stables," whose duty it was '' to suppress all the science and information to which
we owe our freedom.'' The principal of these constables, during the reign of Eli-
zabeth, were, it appears, John Ju gge, the Queen's printer, who possessed the soh
right of printing Bibles and Testaments ; Eichard Totthill that of printing la\^
books; John Day, of A B C's and catechisms, who enjoyed also the sole righto;
selling those publications by '^^ colour," observes the Company, ''^ of a commis
sion;" James Roberts and Richard Watkins, of almanacs and prognostications
Thomas Marsh, of the Latin books used in the e^rammar-schools of the country
Thomas Vantroller, a stranger, of other Latin books, including the New Testa
* As given by Nicholls in his account of the Company ; of which he was a highly respected member : se
' Literary Anecdotes,' vol. iii.
f Lord Erskine's speech in the cause of the Stationers' Company against Caman, of which we shall hav
occasion to speak in another page.
THE STATIONERS' COMPANY. 211
ment in that language ; one Byrde, a singing man, of music-books, and who, by
that means, claimed the printing of ruled paper ; William Seres, of all psalters,
" all manner of primers, English and Latin, and all manner of Prayer-books,"
"with the reversion of the same to his son; and Francis Flower, of'' f^rammars
and other things." One might do something with even the smallest of these
privileges now. Aladdin's lamp pales in splendour, and the fortune of the builder
of Fonthill seems to grow insignificant in comparison with the wealth that would
pour in from such a source. All, or nearly all, these privileges had been possessed
previously by the Company or by its members, that is, the trade generally. It
is particularly mentioned that the right of printing Bibles and Testaments and
law books had been common to the trade, that the right of printing the grammar-
school Latin books belonged to the Company, whilst the A B C's and catechisms,
the almanacs and prognostications, had formed the chief relief of the " poorer
fsort " of the fraternity. One of the special grievances complained of in the reply
iProm which we learn these facts, was that the last-named privileo-e, Francis
Flower's, was possessed by one who did not belong to the Company, but who
coolly farmed out his right to one of the Company's members for 100/. a year,
.vhich, it was carefully stated, was raised by enhancing the original prices. Not
he least noticeable feature of this phase is the sudden accession of members to
he Company during the reign of Elizabeth ; of the whole one hundred and
eventy-five of which it consisted in 1575, no less than one hundred and forty had
aken up their freedoms subsequent to the Queen's accession.
Above two centuries and a half have since passed, and the end may be said to
)e reached of which the beginning was foreshadowed in these continual parings
[own of the privileges of the Stationers' Company, and which parings, like so
nany parts of polypi cut off from the parent animal, ever in so doing started
nto a new and independent existence, rivalling the prosperity of the whole from
?hich they had been derived, and themselves ready for a similar process. And
^hat is that end ? Let us step into Ludgate Street, and from thence through
he narrow court on the northern side, to the Hall shown on our first page. The
xterior seems to tell us nothing, to suggest nothing, unless it be that of a very
ommon-place looking erection of the seventeenth century, and therefore built
ifter the fire which destroyed everything in this neighbourhood ; so we enter.
Ta ! here are signs of business. The Stationers* cannot, like so many of its
mnicipal brethren, be called a dozing company ; indeed it has a reputation for
quality of a somewhat opposite kind. All over the long tables that extend
irough the Hall, which is of considerable size, and piled up in tall heaps on the
oor, are canvas bales or bags innumerable. This is the 22nd of November-
he doors are locked as yet, but will be opened presently for a novel scene. The
ock strikes, wide asunder start the gates, and in they come, a whole army of
orters; darting hither and thither and seizing the said bags, in many instances
5 big as themselves. Before we can well understand what is the matter, men
id bags have alike vanished — the Hall is clear ; another hour or two, and the
mtents of the latter will be flying along railways east, west, north, and south;
it another day and they will be dispersed through every city, and town, and
Irish, and hamlet of England ; the curate will be glancing over the pages of his
!:tle book to see what promotions have taken place in the church, and sigh as
p2
212 LONDON.
he thinks of rectories, and deaneries, and bishoprics ; the sailor will be deep in
the mysteries of tides and new moons that are learnedly expatiated upon in the
pages of his ; the believer in the stars will be finding new draughts made upon
that Bank of Faith impossible to be broken or made bankrupt — his superstition,
as he turns over the pages of his Moore — but we have let out our secret. Yes,
they are all almanacs — those bags contained nothing but almanacs : Moore's and
Partridge's, and Ladies' and Gentlemen's, and Goldsmiths', and Clerical, and
White's celestial, or astronomical, and gardening almanacs — the last, by the way,
a new one of considerable promise, and we hardly know how many others. It is
even so. The — at one time — printers and publishers of everything. Bibles,
Prayer Books, school books, religion, divinity, politics, poetry, philosophy,
history, have become at last publishers only of these " almanacs and prognostica-
tions,'' which once served but to eke out the small means of their poorer mem-
bers. And even in almanacs they have uo longer a monopoly. Hundreds of
competitors are in the field. And, notwithstanding, the Stationers are a thriving
Company.^ In the general progress of literature, the smallest and humblest of its
departments has become so important as to support in vigorous prosperity, in
spite of a most vigorous opposition, the Company in which all literature, in a
trading sense, was at one time centered and monopolised !
If the Stationers' Company thus possesses peculiar features of interest in con-
nection with a larger subject, it has independent claims also of an unusually
attractive character in connection with its almanac history. The exclusive right
in publications of this kind was possessed, as we have seen, during the reign of
Elizabeth, by two individuals, who had obtained their right from the poor
printers who previously enjoyed it, most probably just as it began to show that
it Avould keep them poor no longer. A similar advance in popularity and sale
led no doubt to the next change, which was the conferring the right on the
Universities and the Stationers' Company jointly by James I., a junction cha-
racteristic of the royal pedant, who may have thought the first would provide
the learning whilst the second should undertake the general management. It
was a time of glorious promise for the speculation. As astrology had, in all pro-
bability, first brought almanacs into existence, by making popular the study of
the heavens, on which it was based ; so, like a careful yjarent, to its honour he it
said, it continued for centuries to support them when in being. And the Com-
pany was duly grateful. Whilst the Universities ingloriously accepted an
annuity for their share from their former coadjutor, evidently desiderating no
longer the acquaintance of the astrologers, whilst wits laughed at predictions and
more sdrious men grew indignant at the deception practised upon those who
believed them, the Company remained firm; nay, to this hour, Francis Moore
and Partridge are honoured names in Stationers' Court, the almanac of the for-
mer heading the yearly trade list, a precedence that its sale no doubt entitles it
to. We have heard it said that something like 400,000 copies were among those
bags before mentioned, from which, after making every allowance for the return
of those unsold, a very handsome item must still remain. This, it must be con-
fessed, reveals the philosophy of the Company's gratitude to astrology and astro-
logers. The Stationers' Company appears to have acted from a simple desire
to give people that which would sell, whether astrological or not ; and not from
THE STATIONERS' COMPANY. 213
any peculiar turn for prophecy inherent in the corporation. Thus even in 1G24
they issued at the same time the usual i^redictions in one almanac, and undis-
guised contempt of them in another ; apparently to suit all tastes. The almanac
of Allstree, published in the above-mentioned year, calls the supposed influence
of the moon upon different parts of the body " heathenish/' and dissuades from
astrology in the following lines^ which make up in sense for their want of ele-
gance and rhythm : —
" Let every pkilomatliy (i. e. mathematician)
Leave lying astrology
And write true Astronomy,
And I '11 bear you company."*
But the men addressed declined doing any such thing, and so a very entertain-
jing and instructive chapter in the annals of human credulity was left for our
enjoyment and guidance; and for which we may refer the reader to a former
number of our publication.! If, however, the astrologers could not be induced
to quit their profitable occupation by this, or by any appeals, they could be made
uncomfortable in it, and the eyes of the public to a certain extent opened at the
^ame time as to their true character and value. And this our writers did with
considerable alacrity. It must be acknowledged the subject was a tempting
me ; especially worthy, for instance, the powers of a Butler — hence the following
nasterly portraiture of Lilly, the greatest of the astrologers of the period, from
:he reiofu of Charles I. to that of Charles II.
*' He had been long tow'rds mathematics,
Optics, philosophy, and statics,
Magic, horoscopy, astrology,
And was old dog at physiology.
But, as a dog that turns the spit
Bestirs himself, and plies his feet
To climb the wheel, but all in vain,
His own weight brings him down again,
And still he 's in the self-same place
Where at his setting out he was ;
So in the circle of the arts
Did he advance his natural parts,
Till falling back still for retreat
He fell to juggle, cant, and cheat.
For, as those fowls that live in water
Are never wet, he did but smatter.
Whate'er he labour'd to appear
His understanding still was clear.
He 'd read Dees prefaces before,
The devil and Euclid o'er and o'er.
He with the moon was more familiar
Than e'er was almanack well wilier ;
Her secrets understood so clear
That some believed he had been there :
Knew when she was in fittest mood
For cutting corns and letting blood ;
* * # *
He knew whatever 's to be known,
I But much more than he knew would own."
* ' Penny Cyclopgedia,' article Almanac. f ' London Astrologers,' No. LXVI.
214 LONDON.
That the subject of this eulogy was not unworthy of it, a few notices of his life
will show. Lilly seems to have had a good education, having been sent early to
a grammar-school at Ashby-de-la-Zouch, although his parents were too poor to
do anything for him when he reached manhood; accordingly we find him in Lon-
don filling at first the situation of servant to a mantua-maker. In two or three
years he extricated himself from this position, and became a kind of assistant to
the Master of the Salters' Company, who, being an illiterate man, employed
Lilly to keep his accounts. From that time fortune almost constantly smiled
upon him. His employer died in 1627, and Lilly married the widow, receiving
at the same time a marriage portion of 1000/. The death of this lady in a few
years, and a second marriage, brought him 500/. more. In 1632 he began the
study of astrology under a fitting master, one Evans, a clergyman who had been
expelled from the Church for his fraudulent doings, under colour of the science ;
and of whom Lilly proved a most apt scholar. In a short time the name of the
new astrologer was in every one's mouth. A striking evidence of his popularity,
and of the state of public feeling, in 1634, is furnished by an incident that then
took place. Some wiseacres had got it into their heads that vast treasures were
buried beneath the cloisters of Westminster Abbey ; so Lilly was applied to in
order that, by the use of the mosaical or miner's rods, he might decide the ques-
tion. Not the least amusing part of the story is the behaviour of the Dean ; when
his permission Avas asked, he granted it, but only on the condition of a share in
whatever might be discovered. The scene in the cloisters, during the experi-
ment, must have been of an extraordinary character. Lilly was accompanied by
thirty gentlemen, each carrying a hazel rod, and the time was night. A few
cofliins were disinterred, and the rods again and again applied without any satis-
factory result, when, suddenly, a violent storm broke out, which so alarmed the
whole body of nocturnal explorers that they ran off as fast as their legs could
carry them. So popular a man was not likely to remain unconnected with the
Stationers' Company. Prophecies had long been in Lilly's way. He had been
bold enough in 1633 to publish the horoscope of the monarch himself, when
Charles was crowned King of Scotland ; and the latter, so far from resenting the
boldness, took the prophet into his favour, and was, it is well known, in the fre-
quent habit of consulting him from that time. In 1644 Lilly condescended to
prophesy for subjects as well as kings, in public as well as in private. In that
year he published his first almanac, under the name of Merlinus An glicus, junior,
and although the licenser took considerable liberties with it prior to publication,
the entire edition disappeared in a few days. A curious circumstance followed
the promulgation of one of Lilly's prognostications in his treatise, the Starry
Messenger; the Commissioners of Excise caused him to be arrested on the
grounds that they had been personally insulted, " by having their cloaks pulled
on Change," and that the Excise Oflice had been burnt, both, they believed,
being in consequence of his predictions. It was proved, however, that the pub-
lication had followed the events and not the events the publication. The idea of
making astrologers responsible for such of their predictions as tended to fulfil
themselves was not a bad one ; for it is most likely that, apart from the mischief
it was thus in their power to do whensoever they pleased, no inconsiderable por-
tion of the public faith in their skill was obtained by the same proceeding. At
THE STATIONERS' COMPANY. 215
,11 events it was a decided improvement on the plan of Pope Calixtus HI., who
baused prayers and anathemas to be offered up against a comet, which had, accord-
ng to the astrologers, predicted, and thereby, according to the Pope, assisted in,
:he success of the Turks against the Christians. But we fear the comet treated
:he matter with entire unconcern, we may say disrespect ; not even a quivering
)f its tail, as it retired in unseemly fashion from the Papal eyes, betokening
:hat it was in the slightest degree touched with fear or remorse. There is no
loubt that Lilly, like many other astrologers, owed more to cunning and shrewd-
less, perhaps even occasionally to really superior knowledge, than to astrology,
rhe powers so ludicrously assigned to astrologers by Butler, in the following
ines, had, no doubt, often some foundation, though the inlluences by which they
vere obtained were very different from the ostensible ones : —
" They '11 search a planet's house to know
Who broke and robb'd a house below :
Examine Venus and the Moon
Who stole a thimble, who a spoon ;
And though they nothing will confess,
Yet by their very looks can guess
And tell what guilty aspect bodes,
Who stole and who received the goods.
They '11 feel the pulses of the stars
To find out agues, coughs, catarrhs,
And tell what crisis does divine
The rot in sheep, and mange in swine."
But Lilly could do more than all this. He was really a keen reader of the
igns of the times, talked so much about in astrological publications, but then
was by carefully looking about him on the earth, and studying the character of
nen, rather than by poring over the skies, and inquiring into the aspects of gods ;
/e may rest assured that Lilly placed a great deal more reliance on the move-
iients of Pym, and Hampden, and Cromwell in the parliamentary, than Jupiter,
^lars, and Venus in the heavenly, houses. Up to 1645 Lilly was a cavalier, from
hence up to the Restoration a decided Parliamentarian (he was a member, for
nstance, of the close commission that sat to consult upon the King's execution),
■fter the Restoration, most loyal of king's men once more. But this time the
hange failed of the usual success ; the astrologer's stars were unpropitious : all
lis applications for employment were answered by mortifying refusals ; so he
omforted himself, as well as he could, in his snug retreat at Walton-upon-
rhames, where he had adopted a tailor as his son, christened him Merlin Junior,
nd by will bequeathed him his almanac. Lilly died in 1681. To this picture of
im, who, in point of time and skill, is the most important of the old astrologers
onnected with the Stationers' Company, we need only add Aubrey's illustration
f the method of almanac-making : *'Most of the hieroglyphics contained in this
Lilly's] work were stolen from old monkish manuscripts. Moore, the almanac-
iiaker, has stolen them from him, and doubtless some future almanac-maker will
teal them from Moore."
After Butler's, the most formidable attack upon the astrologers was that made
I pen Partridge and his almanac, by Swift in 1709, which had the rare effect of
liaking the prophet cease to prophesy; though the Company, not the less, issued
216 LONDON.
at the usual time a Partridge's Almanac, and, though that was discontinued
during the three following years, it again rose then, and flourishes to this day.
Swift knew well enough that it was the system that supported the men, rather
than any particular men the system ; so, though he worried poor Partridge
almost to death by predicting he was dead, he took care to extend his attacks to
the thing which alone made Partridge of importance. To those who may yet
believe in Moore and Partridge, the following passage is full of instruction:
" Then for their observations and predictions, they are such as will equally suit
any age or country in the world. ' This month a certain great person will be
threatened with death or sickness.' This the newspaper will tell them ; for there
we find at the end of the year, that no month passes without the death of some
person of note ; and it would be hard if it were otherwise, when there are at least
two thousand persons of note in this kingdom, many of them old, and the almanac-
maker has the liberty of choosing the sickliest season of the year, where he may
fix his prediction. Again, * This month an eminent clergyman will be preferred ;'
of which there may be many hundreds, half of them with one foot in the grave.
Then, ' Such a planet in such a house, shows great machinations, plots, and con-
spiracies, that may in time be brought to light.' After which if we hear of any
discovery, the astrologer gets the honour ; if not, his predictions will stand good.
And at last, ' God preserve King William from all his open and secret enemies,
Amen.' When, if the King should have happened to have died, the astrologer
plainly foretold it ; otherwise it passes for but the pious ejaculation of a loyal sub-
ject : though it unluckily happened in some of their almanacs, that poor King
William was prayed for many months after he was dead, because it fell out that
he died about the beginning of the year." If dullness, and credulit}^, and super-
stition were not wit-proof, such shafts must have penetrated, and the almanac-
makers have speedily found that their occupation was gone; but we see little
evidence that the Company found any effect produced where they would have felt
it, that is in their ledger. But toward the close of the century, a new adversary
sprang up, whom they could understand perfectly, as their proceedings against
him testify. There was then living in St. Paul's Churchyard, a bookseller of the
name of Thomas Carnan, who very unaccountably got a notion in his head that
he had as good a right to publish almanacs as the Company ; and, worse still,
actually published an almanac on the strength of the notion. The Company,
however, determined to settle the matter very speedily, and, after a preliminary
flourish about counterfeits, ,threw him into prison. Strange to say, however,
Carnan was still not satisfied, and tried again the second year, was again thrown
into prison, — a third year, and the like result followed. These issuings forth
from St. Paul's Churchyard of the almanacs, and the entrances into gaol of
their proprietor became so regular a thing of course, that '* there is a tradition
in his family that he always kept a clean shirt in his pocket, ready for a decent
appearance before the magistrates and the keepers of his Majesty's gaol at
Newgate." '•• All this was very annoying to a respectable company ; but Car-
nan's impertinence rising with every fresh effort to put him down, he at last, in
1775, brought the case legally before the judges of the Common Pleas, when,
to the unutterable indignation of the Company, it was decided that in effect
* ' London Magazine.' See an excellent article on Almanacs in the volume for 182S, and to which we must
express our obligations.
THE STATIONERS' COMPANY.
217
Carnan was quite right, that the professed patent of monopoly \vas worthless.
The grounds of this decision were of higher importance than the subject that
called it forth, and must not therefore be passed without explanation.
We have before seen that the crown exercised despotic power over the press
almost from the very period of its introduction into England, and that the
Stationers' Company were the instruments. Thus by their charter, received from
Philip and Mary, it was declared that no persons, except members of the Com-
pany, should print or sell books ; and they were at the same time empowered to
seize and destroy all books prohibited by acts of parliament or by proclamation.
In the reign of Elizabeth we find the Compam^, while pointing out to her
Majesty what a very poor company they were, and begging for the privilege of
printing the Latin Accidence and Grammar, enforcing their petition by a vaunt
of their deserts in searching for and suppressing popish and seditious books. We
need only give one illustration more, and that is from the reign of Charles I. On
the 11th of July, 1637, a decree was issued from the Star Chamber, restricting
the number of printers to twenty, besides the King s printer and the printer to
the universities. When the Star Chamber fell, this jurisdiction fell too ; but,
unfortunately for the consistency of the men who overthrew both, the same odious
restrictions were revived during the Commonwealth. One can hardly lament
such an occurrence now, seeing the memorable event that sprang from it — the
publication of Milton's ' Areopagitica, a speech for unlicensed printing,' which,
if it did not move those to whom it was more especially addressed, did something
still more extraordinary, namely, induced the licenser, Mabbott, to resign. At
the Restoration similar powers were annexed to the crown, and, in a more solemn
manner, by acts of parliament, which only expired in the reign of William and
Mary, through the refusal of the legislature to continue them any longer, — a
period that, as Erskine observes, " formed the great era of the liberty of the
press in this country." The only reservation was that of publishing religious or
civil institutions, in other words, the ordinances "by which the subject is to live
and to be governed. These always did, and, from the very nature of civil
government, always ought to, belong to the sovereign, and hence have gained the
title of prerogative copies. When, therefore, the Stationers' Company claimed
the exclusive right of printing almanacs under a charter of King James L, and
applied to the Court of Exchequer for an injunction against the petitioner at
your bar, the question submitted by the barons to the learned judges of the
Common Pleas, namely, Whether the crown could grant such exclusive right ?
was neither more nor less than the question ; Whether almanacs were such public
ordinances, such matters of state, as belonged to the King by his prerogative, so
as to enable him to communicate an exclusive right of printing them to a grantee
of the crown? For the press being thrown open by the expiration of the licensing
acts, nothing could remain exclusively to such grantees but the printing of such
books as, upon solid constitutional grounds, belonged to the superintendence of
the crown, as matters of authority and state. The question, thus submitted, was
twice solemnly argued in the Court of Common Pleas, when the judges unani-
mously certified that the croum had no such poicer.'' But rich companies never
want powerful friends : the minister. Lord North, who, it is said, wished for loyal
prophecies to bolster up the American war, now brought a bill into parliament to
218 LONDON.
give the Stationers that which the judges had decided they had not; and the uni-
versities, feeling, no doubt, they should do something for their annuity, if not
in gratitude for the past, why then as security for the future, lent all their influ-
ence to carry the measure through parliament. But the despised Carnan had
also a friend in the House, Erskine, who fought the battle against the
monopolists in a spirit and manner worthy of his reputation, and the result
was a signal defeat for the minister, the Company, and the universities. We
have already transcribed from Erskine's speech an account of the question
that had been raised and decided in the courts of law, namely, whether or no
the monopoly was legal : it remained now to determine whether such a monopoly
was right. Two points in Erskine's speech challenge especial notice : the first
is that in which he deals with the mischievous effects of the proposed measure
as regarding literature and knowledge generally : — '' If almanacs," he observes,
" are held to be such matter of public consequence as to be revised by authority,
and confined by a monopoly, surely the various departments of science may, on
much stronger principles, be parcelled out among the different officers of state, as
they were at the first introduction of printing. There is no telling to what such
precedents may lead; the public welfare was the burthen of the preambles to the
licensing acts ; the most tyrannical laws in the most absolute governments speak
a kind, parental language to the abject wretches who groan under their crushing
and humiliating weight ; resisting, therefore, a regulation and supervision of the
press, beyond the rules of the common law, I lose sight of my client, and feel that
I am speaking for myself, for every man in England. With such a legislature as
I have now the honour to address, I confess the evil is imaginary ; but who can
look into the future ? This precedent (trifling as it may seem) may hereafter
afford a plausible inlet to much mischief ; the protection of the law may be a
pretence for a monopoly in all books on legal subjects ; the safety of the state may
require the suppression of histories and political writings. Even Philosophy her-
self may become once more the slave of the schoolmen, and Religion fall again
under the iron fetters of the church." The other point to which we referred
bears upon the particular question, whether it was expedient to confer on the
Company the sole right of issuing almanacs. To determine this, Erskine in-
quired into the state of such publications under the Company's supervision, and
the result was startling : — '' But the correctness and decency of these publications
are, it seems, the great objects in reviving and confirming this monopoly, which the
preamble asserts to have been hitherto attained by it ; since it states, ' that such
monopoly has been found to be convenient and expedient.' But, Sir, is it seriously
proposed by this bill to attain these moral objects by vesting, or rather legaliz-
ing, the usurped monopoly in the Universities, under episcopal revision, as
formerly ? Is it imagined that our almanacs are to come to us in future, in the
classical arrangement of Oxford, fraught with the mathematics and astronomy of
Cambridge, printed with the correct type of the Stationers' Company, and sancti-
fied hy the blessings of the bishops ? I beg pardon. Sir, but the idea is perfectly
ludicrous ; it is notorious that the Universities sell their right to the Stationers'
Company for a fixed annual sum, and that this act is to enable them to continue
to do so. Audit is equally notorious that the Stationers' Company make a scan-
dalous job of the bargain ; and, to increase the sale of almanacs among the vulgar,
THE STATIONERS' COMPANY. 219
[publish, under the auspices of religion and learning, the most senseless ahsurdi-
I ties. I should really have been glad to have cited some sentences from the one
hundred and thirteenth edition of ' Poor Kobin's Almanac/ published under the
revision of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London ; but I am pre-
vented from doing it by a just respect for the House. Indeed, I know no house
but a brothel, that could suffer the quotation. The worst part of llochester is
ladies' reading when compared with them."
The utility of the almanacs in other respects, it seems, had been on a par with
their decency and sense. The House of Commons must have enjoyed amazingly
Erskine's quiet wit in reviewing their claims to correctness and scientific
I learning: — ''They are equally indebted," he says, "to the calculations of their
astronomer, which seem, however, to be made for a more icestern meridian than
I London. — Plow Monday falls out on a Saturday, and Hilary term ends on Sep-
tuagesima Sunday. In short. Sir, these almanacs have been, as everything else
that is monopolised must be, uniform and obstinate in mistake and error, for
want of the necessary rivalry. It is not worth their while to unset the press to
correct mistakes, however gross and palpable, because they cannot affect the sale.
If the moon is made to rise in the west, she may continue to rise there for ever."
After such an exposure of what the Company's almanacs had been, it was idle
to talk of what they yet would be, on the same system. The House decided
;against the monopoly by a majority of 45. The Company was, however,
relieved from the payment of their annuity, and the Universities received
parliamentary compensation. And thus, as every one concluded, was the
Imonopoly of the Company destroyed for ever. It was a great mistake.
Almanacs from different quarters, of a better kind, came forth as expected, but
some magic seemed at work with them ; they disappeared in such unaccountable
|fashion. Even Carnan's did not last many years. The fact was, the Company
was now buying up all such publications as fast as they appeared, or as fast as
it could convince the proprietors of the prudence of selling them, which, with
Ithe Company's influence over the entire machinery of book-selling, was by no
jmeans difficult. The consequence was, that Poor Robin still revelled in the
iobscenity which he had learned in the days of Charles II. ; Moore, and Partridge,
land Wing, became as reckless as ever in their insults upon the common sense of
the nation in their astrological predictions ; and, during the French Revolution,
a new coadjutor was brought into the field, who surpassed all his rivals and
predecessors in the mystical wonder of hieroglyphics, and the almost sublime
daring with which he settled beforehand the events of that most eventful time.
One would have thought that the men of that age had supped full of natural
horrors ; but when Francis gave them his supernatural wonders into the bargain,
|they found their error. The sale of his publication was, of course, enormous —
unparalleled.
The course of this history, it must ,be acknowledged, is not flattering to the
Company ; but in looking at its conduct we must not overlook the extenuating
pircumstances in its favour. Baily has told us that the members did once make
'm endeavour to reform their publications — and commenced by omitting from
Moore the column showing the moon's influence on the parts of the human body ;
the consequence of that single omission was the return of the greater part of the
220 LONDON.
copies. The question, therefore, of improvement or no improvement did cer-
tainly resolve itself into that of little or no revenue, or a large one. And although
there can be no doubt as to what a spirited and honourable corporation should
have done in such a position, there is something to be ])leaded for the Stationers'
Company in not so doing. The evils that existed they found, and did not
create; and the time was not so very remote since they had been esteemed any-
thing but evils. We must not forget that some of our most eminent philosophers
have been astrologers ; and that the belief in astrology is not even yet entirely
extinct. Within the last twenty-six years a book on astrology, in two volumes,
quarto, and with elaborate tables, bearing unequivocal marks of genuine faith
on the part of the author, has been published. But how was such a state of
things to be terminated, the Company not having the least taste for self-
sacrifice — no ambition higher than the breeches' pocket? In 182S, the Society
for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge stepped quietly forward, and answered the
question by the publication of the British Almanac; and the result showed, as
history had a thousand times shown before, that the error of under-rating the
public taste and knowledge is at least as frequent as that of over-rating, and
infinitely more mischievous. And here, again, a certain amount of credit belongs
to the Company. It did not disdain to learn, though a rival offered the
lesson. It made honourable its next year's history by a two-fold move-
ment : in one direction it banished a great deal of their astrology, and the
whole of their indecency, from the almanacs ;— Poor Hobin was extinguished alto-
gether— your very aged libertine is always irreclaimable ; in another it pub-
lished a new almanac of a very superior character in all respects, namely, the
En<rlishman's. In the preface to the last the writers stated that ''^ their own older
and established publications they modify from time to time, as the diffusion of taste
and knowledge may require ;" and we believe there is nothing in the present
management of the Company's business to contradict the principle thus publicly
promulgated.
Some idea of the extent of the business now done, and of those who enjoy its
profits, may be here usefully given. The Company, be it known to all who are
not familiar with the subject, is a kind of Janus corporation — one head being
ever busily occupied in eating municipal dinners and transacting municipal
business, the other in making almanacs to sell, and in disposing of the proceeds
when sold. And if you believe what each of the heads will not hesitate to tell
you, when a corporation commissioner, for instance, is standing by, the common
street announcement would be very applicable — no connection with the head
next door ; but then it is evident to all that the same body supports both : — it is
truly a perplexing matter. It seems, however, to be thus explained. The Master
and Keepers (or Wardens) of the mystery or art of a Stationer, as, to observe
civic etiquette, the title must be given, were, of course, from the time of
Henry IV., the farthest period to which their knowledge of themselves extends,
all members of the same, or closely connected trades, in this agreeing with
municipal fraternities generally ; but whilst the last gradually ceased to have any
important duties connected with, or control over, their respective occupations,
and therefore grew careless as to what trade their new member might be — since
all of every trade could certainly eat a good dinner, the most important part of
THE STATIONERS' COMPANY. '221
metropolitan municipal constitutions in modern times ; the first, on the contrary,
through the operation of the influences already pointed out, remained, and remains,
a prosperous and thrivin<^ trade corporation, and is exceedingly careful as to the
matter of admission. Their principle is very simple, and perfectly just. Whoever
has a right to be a member of the Company through patrimony or servitude is
admitted, whatever his business, but those alone can purchase admittance, or have
it conferred on them by gift, who are members of the bookselling, stationery,
printing, bookbinding, printselling, or engraving trades or professions ; and then
with regard to the election of the former class to the livery, such freemen must
disclaim any participation in the Company's business as stationers. The effect,
therefore, is, that the Company at this moment retains more completely than
almost any other London corporation the features of its original character. The
number of freemen is between 1000 and 1100, of the livery of about 450. As the
business of the Company is managed by its regularly paid servants, those who
form the proprietary body have little else to do than to invest their money when
permitted, and receive the very handsome per centage it returns — 12}^ per
cent, some years ago, and now, we believe, considerably more. The entire capital
invested is upwards of 40,000/., under the denomination of English Stock, a title
derived from the time when the Company had a very respectable Latin stock also,
now dwindled away to the trifling sum invested in the publication of a Latin Gradus,
the only work at present published by the Company in addition to their almanacs.
This 40,000/. is divided into between three or four hundred shares, varying in
value, through a regularly increasing double sequence, from 40/. and 50/. to 320/.
and 400/. each. The mode of distribution is, we believe, perfectly fair, and so
arranged that the oldest members receive the greatest benefit. The shares being
fewer in number than the Livery, there are, of course, always vacancies, which
are filled up nominally by election, but virtually by order of seniority. A share
may be bequeathed to a widow, but no farther. In the municipal character of
the Company there is nothing worthy of particular notice. The receipts and
expenditure are given in the Corporation Commissioners' Report for the years
1832-3 at the respective sums of 2542/. 2^. 3^d. and 1951/. ; items which, it is
almost unnecessary to state, have nothing to do with the trading business of the
Company.
The Hall is chiefly noticeable for its pictures, since it has no architectural pre-
tensions, and exhibits little of that sumptuous magnificence which glows and
:sparkles in the apartments of Goldsmiths' Hall. The Court Room is handsome,
Icertainly, and delightfully comfortable when its lustres are lighted up, a cheerful
fire blazing in the grate, the screen placed against the door, and the inmates
sitting: down on their well-stuffed chairs to hear the amount of the last year's
dividend on their stock. At such times the arched and stuccoed ceiling seems to
expand and grow more elaborately rich ; no one then doubts that the extraor-
dinary carvings of fruit and flowers over the chimney-piece are by Gibbons's own
|hands ; West's picture, facing us in the little boudoir-like place at the extremity of
the room, and of which we get some such glimpse of the two principal figures as
•is here shown, through the pair of stately columns that divide the two apartments,
'surpasses a Titian in colouring — a Michael Angelo in grandeur ; nay, we question
3ven whether the story in all its marvellous features, which gave rise to the picture.
LONDON.
[Alfred and the Pilgiim.]
would not be received implicitly, as tlie old chroniclers related it ; one of whom says
of Alfred, '' Upon a time, when his company had departed from him in search of
victuals to eat, and for pastime was reading in a book, a poor pilgrim came to him,
and asked him alms in God's name. The King lifted up his hands to heaven, and
said, *^I thank God of his grace that he visiteth his poor man this day by another
poor man, and vouchsafeth to ask of me that which he hath given me.' Then the
King arose, and called his servant, that had but one loaf and a very little wine,
and bade him give the half thereof unto the poor man, who received it thankfully,
and suddenly vanished from his sight, so that no step of him was seen on the fen
or moor he passed over ; and also, what was given to him by the King, was left
there, even as it had been given unto him. Shortly after the company returned
to their master, and brought with them great plenty of fish that they had then
taken. The night following, when the King was at his rest, there appeared to him
one in a bishop's weed, and charged him that he should love God, and keep jus-
tice, and be merciful to the poor men, and reverence priests ; and said, moreover,
' Alfred! Christ knoweth thy will and conscience, and now will make an end of
thy sorrow and care; for to-morrow strong helpers shall come to thee, by whose
help thou shalt subdue thine enemies.' ' Who art thou ?' said the King. ' I am
Saint Cuthbert,' said he, 'the poor pilgrhn that yesterday was here with thee, to
whom thou gavest both bread and wine. I am busy for thee and thine ; where-
THE STATIONERS' COMPANY. 223
fore have thou mind hereof when it is well with thee.' Then Alfred after this
nsion was well comforted, and shewed himself more at large." West's picture of
this touching incident, divested of its supernal accompaniments, forms the most
important of the pictorial treasures of the Stationers' Company. It was ^iven by
the excellent Boydell, who was Master of the Company, and of whom there is here
1 portrait, in his robes as Lord Mayor, which is amusing for its alleo-orical absurd-
ities. The artist, Graham, wanted to say that Boydell was just and intellio-ent
In his office, that he promoted Industry and Commerce as a tradesman, and that
lie did good service to the memory of Shakspere, by his famous gallery and the
publication to which it led. So we have Boydell in the city chair, with fio-ures of
Justice holding the balance and the city sword on his right ; Prudence, Avith her
looking-glass and the emblem of penetrating wisdom, on his left ; Industry, with a
;un-burnt complexion and a bee-hive on his head, behind ; and lastly. Commerce, in
Tont, reclining on a cornucopia, with the compass in one hand, whilst with the other
;he points to the outpouring contents of her horn, and touchingly appeals to the
Lord Mayor to know whether he won't taste of the good things he has done so
nuch to create. No wonder, after all this, the artist's invention slackened its
oace a little, and so told the remainder of the story, by putting the bust of
5hakspere on a table with — the city mace. The other noticeable pictures, mostly
)ortraits, are in the stock-room, where we have Tycho Wing, the astrolo^-er,
vith his right hand on a celestial sphere; Prior, the poet, with animated fea-
ures, habited in a cap and crimson gown, a capital portrait ; Steele, with his
landsome dark speaking eyes, and corpulent-looking body ; — both these last
jictures given by Mr. Nicholls ; — ^Bunyan, a recent acquisition, and looking
ike a genuine portrait of the author of the '' Pilgrim's Progress," the gift
)f Mr. Hobbs, whose vocal powers have so often solaced the fraternity ;
3ishop Hoadley, a half-length, in his robes of the Order of the Garter ; and
^owyer, a bust, with a brass-plate and inscription written by himself, and too
lonourable to the memory of the writer and to the Company to be passed without
pecial notice. In it he returns his '' gratitude to the Company of Stationers
nd other numerous benefactors, who, when a calamitous fire, June 30th, 1712-13,
lad in one night destroyed the effects of William Bowyer, printer, repaired the
3SS with unparallelled humanity." And such a fact is the best possible testimony
0 the character and public services of the " last of the learned printers."
The charities of the Company are numerous, consisting chiefly of pensions
arying in value from 30/. per annum downwards. Among the benefactors Guy
tands conspicuous. He took up his freedom as a member of the Company in
, and commenced business as a printer in the house that, till of late years,
brmed the angle between Cornhill and Lombard Street. There he laid the
bundation of his mighty fortune, by contracting with the universities for the
)rinting of Bibles. Honours in Stationers' Court kept pace with the guineas in
vornhill ; he became a liveryman, and member of the Court of Assistants. The
)uying up of seamen's tickets during Anne's wars, and the South Sea Stock, now
)resented opportunities for the investment of money, which Guy turned to ex-
raordinary account. From the last, with characteristic tact, he drew off in time
^ith his gains, and was one of the few whom that gigantic fraud and folly bene-
0
224 LONDON.
fited. It was time now to make himself comfortable, to grow domestic, have
little ones playing about the knee, to whom those almost inexhaustible stores
should descend. He determined to marry his servant-maid. On such an occa-
sion Guv thought some little preparations necessary in a household characterised
by economy much more than by comfort x>r completeness. They were set about.
Guy would be lavish once in a life-time; he would even have the pavement
before his door mended. With his own hands he marked out how far the
masons were to go. Unhappily for the bride there was a little spot beyond,
which she thought the men might as well do. But they answered that Mr. Guy
had directed them not to go so far. " Well," says the maiden innocently, and
little dreaming what thousands hung upon every word — " Tell him I bade you,
and I know he will not be angry." The mending of that stone broke the
marriage. Guy built hospitals with the main body of his fortune ; from the
remainder the Stationers' Company to this day derive some 50/. yearly for its
poor.
The entering of the titles of all new publications on the books of the Sta-
tioners' Company is a custom of considerable antiquity, and we owe to it many
important facts, illustrative of the order and the date of the writings of our great
poets, more particularly Shakspere's. The recent Copyright Act has subjected
the Company to the additional duty of registering all assignments of copyrights ;
so that it is still destined, in all probability, to along career of public usefulness,
a difference between itself and its less fortunate municipal brethren, of which it
may be reasonably proud.
[Death and the Old Man. From Holhein's Dance of Death.]
CXL.— BILLS OF MORTALITY.
N the week ending the 18th of November, 1843, the number of deaths in the
netropolis exceeded the average mortality by upwards of three hundred. There
vas once a time when a fact like this would have produced a panic among the
itizens, and have arrested the gaieties of the West End ; for an increase in the
atality of ordinary diseases was generally regarded as a precursor of the Plague :
,)ut, excepting members of the medical profession, undertakers, and sextons
whom it must not be considered ungracious thus to link together), this increase
if one-fourth in the number of deaths is unknown to nearly all the world besides
-a sure sign of the little interest which it excites, when scarcely common gossip
dopts it as a '' topic of the day." It was with the view of communicating to
he inhabitants of London, to the Court, and the constituted authorities of the City
ccurate information respecting the increase or decrease in the number of deaths,
nd the casualties of mortality occurring amongst them, that the Bills of Morta-
ty were first commenced. London was then seldom entirely free from the
*lague, and the publication of the Bills was calculated to calm exaggerated
amours; and to warn those who could do so conveniently to leave London
henever the pestilence became more fatal than usual. The Bills were first com-
lenced in 1592, during a time when the Plague was busy with its ravages, but
ley were not continued uninterruptedly until the occurrence of another Plague,
|i 1603, from which period up to the present time they have been continued
cm week to week, excepting during the Great Fire, when the deaths of two or
iree weeks were given in one Bill.
In 1662, Captain John Graunt, a citizen of London, who appears to have lived
i Birchin Lane, published a work entitled ' Natural and Political Observations
VOL. VI. Q
226 LONDON.
on the Bills of Mortality,' in which he gives an account of the manner in which
they were prepared. " When any one dies, then, either by tolling or ringing of
a bell, or by bespeaking of a grave of the sexton, the same is known to the
searchers corresponding with the said sexton. The searchers hereupon (who are
ancient matrons sworn to their office) repair to the place where the dead corpse
lies, and by view of the same, and by other inquiries, they examine by what
disease or casualty the corpse died. Hereupon they make their report to the
parish clerk, and he, every Tuesday night, carries in an account of all the burials
and christenings happening that week to the clerk at the Parish Clerks' Hall.
On Wednesday the general account is made up and printed, and on Thursda3^s
published and disposed to the several families who will pay four shillings per
annum for them." Maitland, in his ' History of London,' says that the Company
of Parish Clerks was strictly enjoined by its charter to make report of all the
weekly christenings and burials in their respective parishes, by six o'clock on
Tuesdays in the afternoon; but a bye-law was passed, changing the hour to two
o'clock, on the same day, in order, says Maitland, *' that the King and the Lord
Mayor may have an account thereof the day before publication." About 1625,
the utility of the Bills having been generally recognised, the Company of Parish
Clerks obtained a licence from the Star Chamber for keeping a printing-press in
their Hall, for printing the Bills ; and it was ordered that the two masters and
the warden of the Company should each of them have the keeping of a key of
the press-room door. In 1629 there were two editions of the Weekly Bills
printed, one with the casualties and diseases, and the other without. The former
was a foreshadow of the newspaper of later times, which devotes a column instead
of a line, to *^^ dreadful accidents" and other casualties. Graunt says, "Having
always been born and bred in the City of London, and having always observed
that most of those who constantly took in the Bills of Mortality made little other
use of them than to look, at the foot, how the burials increased or decreased; and
among the casualties, what had happened rare and extraordinary in the week
current, so as they might take the same as a text to talk upon in the next com-
pany, and withal, in the Plague time, how the sickness increased or decreased,
that so the rich might judge of the necessity of their removal, and tradesmen
might conjecture what doings they were likely to have in their respective dealings'
• — he conceived that the wisdom of the City had designed them for other uses,
and began to examine them ; and the result was the work already mentioned,
which is carious, and not without value as a step towards just conclusions. He
had to combat some singular notions, first, that the population of London was to
be reckoned by millions ; ''which most men do believe, as they do that there be
three women to one man." He speaks of "men of great experience in this City
who talk seldom under millions of people to be in London ;" and all this he was
himself apt enough at one time to believe, *' until on a certain day one of eminent
reputation was upon occasion asserting that there was, in the year 1661, two millions
more than in Ajino 1625, before the Great Plague" — a notion about as reasonable
as the idea which prevailed amongst intelligent persons fifty years ago concerning
the population of Nankin and some of the other cities of China. Turning to the
Bills, he showed that if there were onl// six millions of inhabitants of London, the
deaths being about 15,000, the proportion was only 1 in 400, which common
BILLS OF MORTALITY. 227
experience at once disproved; and as to the proportion of men and women, there
were, he says, fourteen men to thirteen women; in which he was wrong on the
other side, the number of females being always in the larger proportion ; at the
[present time, for example, being about nine to eight. The population of London
he reduced from millions, according to the popular notion, to 384,000, or
|199,112 males and 184,886 females. The deaths were about 1 in 24. In 1605
the parishes comprised within the Bills of Mortality included the ninety-seven
parishes within the walls, sixteen parishes without the walls, and six contiguous
||out-parishes in Middlesex and Surrey. In 1626 the city of Westminster was
included in the Bills; in 1636 the parishes of Islington, Lambeth, Stepney, New-
l.ngton, Hackney, and Redriif. Other additions were made from time to time.
jAt present the weekly Bills of Mortality include the ninety-seven parishes within
!;he walls, seventeen parishes without the walls, twenty-four out-parishes in Middle-
|;ex and Surrey, including the district churches^ and ten parishes in the city and
iberties of Westminster. The parishes of Marylebone and St. Pancras, with
jiome others, which at the beginning of last century had only a population of
)150 persons, but now contain 360,1 13, were never included in the Bills.
The nosology of the old Bills of Mortality is not without interest as an index
if the state of medical knowledge at the time when they were commenced.
5ome of the obsolete heads would puzzle a medical practitioner of the present
lay. In 1657 we have "chrisomes and infants," 1162 deaths; in this instance
he age of the deceased being substituted for the disease. By " chrisome" was
leant merely a child not yet a month old, the appellation being derived from the
hrisom, or cloth anointftd with holy unguent, which infants wore till they were
hristened. In 1699 the number entered under this head was only 70 ; but as
hey decreased the number set down to convulsions increased, the name of the
isease which carries off so many infants being at length substituted for the term
Indicative merely of age. In 1726 there were but three "chrisomes," being the
list time this entry appears; and ''infants" occurred for the last time in 1722.
I Blasted and planet" is another curious entry, under which we find five deaths
■\ 1657, five in 1658, three in 1Q59, and eight in 1660, after which it does not
'^appear, and soon afterwards "blasted" no longer occurs. ''Planet-struck,"
lowever (of which '' planet" was an abbreviation), occurs during the casualties
)r several years afterwards ; and it is most likely that these appellations were
iestowed on persons who wasted away without any very obvious cause. Dysen-
ky, the disease of camps, and of those who live as if in camps, carried off its
lousands annually in the crowded and dirty parts of old London; though it did
iot appear in the Bills under this name, but in one more homely and expressive
;ian delicate. Scarlet fever, the deaths in which amount at present to about
!vo thousand a-year, is not found in the old Bills till 1703, when the number of
!?aths from it is stated to be only seven, and the next year only eight, the fact
leing that it was long confounded with measles, even by f)hysicians. The old
konymes for water in the head (hydrocephalus) were '' headmouldshot" and
Ihorseshoehead," and both referred to changes produced by this disease in the
lape of the head. In 1726 they very properly began to be classed together,
he head ''rising of the lights," which was never omitted in the old Bills, has
azzled the medical historian ; since the choking sensation in the throat (globus
Q 2
228 LONDON.
hystericus), to which it seems to bear the nearest affinity, is by no means a fata
or even dangerous disease. " Tissick" is used for phthisis or consumption|()
Graunt has some curious speculations on the introduction of the "rickets" fo
the first time in 1634. Some of the casualties recorded are not likely to recu:
amongst us. In 1724 there was one "died from want in Newgate ;" in 1732 oik
^'murdered in the pillory ;" in 1756 one " killed in the pillory." Graunt con
£:ratulates his fellow-citizens that " few are starved," the number of entries whicl
occur under the head "starved" in the course of twenty years being fifty-one
but then he seems to have exempted " helpless infants at nurse, which bein^ n
caused rather by carelessness, ignorance, and infirmity of the milch- worn en, i
not properly an eifect, or sign of want of food in the country, or of means to ge ji
it." Then again he observes that " but few are murthered ; not above eighty jn
six of the 229,250 [the deaths in twenty years] which have died of other disease
and casualties ; whereas in Paris few nights escape without their tragedy."
The chief value of the Bills of Mortality for upwards of a century after thei
first institution consisted, in the public estimation, of the warning Avhich theil
afforded as to the existence or progress of the Plague, which during the MiddL
Ages and to the end of the seventeenth century was at all times either an activ
agent in the work of destruction or apparently suspending its ravages only t(
recommence them with greater fury. Sir William Petty, in his ^ Essay on Poli
tical Arithmetic concerning the Growth of the City of London,' published iif
1682, says : " It is to be remembered that, one time with another, a Plague hap i
peneth in London once in twenty years, or thereabouts; audit is also to h
remembered that the Plagues of London do commonly kill one-fifth of the inha
bitants." Again he remarks: "The Plague of London is the chief impedimen
and objection against the growth of the City." Within the hundred years pre
ceding the period when he v»Tote there had been five great Plagues, namely, ii
1592, 1603, 1625, 1636, and 1665. In the four last years the total number o
deaths in London, from all diseases and from the Plague, was as follows : —
Total Deaths. Died of the Plague. Total Deaths. Died of the Plague.
1603 37,294 30,561 1636 23,357 10,400
1625 51,758 35,417 1665 97,306 68,596
The above are the figures given in another work of Graunt's relating to th
mortality of the Plague. In 1603 the deaths from the Plague were three out o
every 3*7 deaths from all diseases, which was a higher proportion than in 166
In 1625 there were eight times as many deaths as there were christenings in th
previous year. If such a proportion were to occur now, the number of deaths ii
the metropolis would be raised from about 46,000 to nearly 400,000. But eveij
in the intermediate years, between the occurrence of Great Plagues, the mortality
was frequently reckoned by hundreds and thousands. In the five years fron
1606 to 1610 the deaths from the Plague exceeded 2000 in three separate years
4000 in- one year, and in 1610 they amounted to 1803. This Plague, says Graunt
lasted twelve years. The number diminished until 1624, when not one death fror
the Plague was recorded ; but in the following year the deaths rose to 35,417
Between 1625 and 1636 there occurred three years, at intervals, in which ther
^vere no victims to the destructive pestilence, one of these years being 1635; bu
in 1636 the deaths amounted to 10,400, and in 1639 to 3082; in the twofollowin|
BILLS OF MORTALITY. ^ 229
3ars they were under 400; in 1641 they rose to 3067; in 1642 they amounted
1824; in 1644 to 1492; in 1645 to 1871 ; in 1646 to 2436; in 1647 to 3597,
minishing after 1648 from 611 to 67 in the following year, and then only twice
bing above twenty in the interval between 1650 and 1664. In 1663 there were
ne deaths from the Plague, and in the following year only six. Immediately
llowed the Great Plague, with its 68,596 victims. With the exception of 1670
ere were a few deaths from the disease in each year until 1679. After this
e heading "Plague" in the Bills up to 1703 inclusive was filled up by 0 marked
)posite. ** So long had this desolating malady been a denizen that the terrified
jndoners could not believe in its permanent absence : for more than twenty
sars they retained a place for its shadow — its name— like the chair at Macbeth's
nquet, filled by a spectre guest!"*
The excessive mortality occasioned by the Plague must naturally have affected
my interests, and have had a general influence on the ordinary course of hfe
those times. The supply and demand of labour, for instance, experienced its
eration ; but the equilibrium was soon restored. Graunt notices how quickly
e greatest plagues of the City are repaired from the country. He estimated
yearly supply of strangers to London at six thousand, and shows how
edily the births rose to more than their ordinary height after the Plague.
le years 1603 and 1625, it will be recollected, were plague years; and it will
seen that two years afterwards the christenings each time rose higher than the
mber in the year preceding the Plague.
Christenings. Christenings.
1602 . . 6000 1624 . . 8299
1603 . . 4789 1625 . . 5247
1604 . . 5458 1626 , . 6701
1605 , . 6504 1628 . . 8408
The accounts of the havoc made by the spasmodic cholera in London in the year
18 appear scarcely credible, although, according to the late Mr. Hickman
(Statement of Progress under the Population Act of 1830'), they are supported
t circumstantial evidence which appears to be conclusive. The disease began
il ravages in London early in November, and '' Death was so outrageously
e!iel " that it soon became necessary to set apart fields for additional places of
trial. The Lord Walter Manny at this time purchased thirteen acres and a
tl of land, in which one place, says the historian (Barnes's ' History of Edward
|l.,' printed in 1688), there were buried within one year more than fifty thousand
prsons, besides those interred in churchyards, churches, and monasteries. Stow
s s that he had seen and read an inscription fixed on a stone-cross which attested
tit the number of burials was as above-mentioned.
We pass over the plagues of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and those of
133, 1625, and 1636, already mentioned, until we come to the Great Plague of
1!55, the history of which has been made familiar to us by the vigorous and
giphic pen of De Foe.f Notices of the approaching pestilence occur in Pep) s's
' iary.' Under the date of October 19, 1663, he says :—'' To the Coffee-house in
' Companion to the British Almanac for 1835/ p. 28, on the Bills of Mortality.
In most modern editions of De Foe's work it is called the ' History of the Great Plague ;' in Mr. Brayley's
e^ llent edition the title is properly given, ' A Journal of the Plague Year.'
230 LONDON. j
Cornliill, where much talk about the Turks' proceedings, a,nd that the Plague is
got to Amsterdam." October 30th : — " The Plague is much in Amsterdam, and
we in fear of it here, which God defend." Ships from Holland were enjoined, by
an Order in Council issued in June, 16G4, to yjerform a quarantine of thirty days
in Holehaven. Between the 20th and 27th of December, 1664, the Weekly Bill of
Mortality gave intimation that one person had died of the Plague in London. No
other death from the same disease occurring until the second week in February,
not much alarm was excited. In the last week in April two deaths from the
Plague were reported in the Bills, but in the following week there were none.
In the second week in May the return was nine deaths and four parishes infected,
but in the following week only three persons died. The next three weeks, from
May 16th to June 6th, the nuntbers were fourteen, seventeen, and forty-three.
At "the Coffee-house" Pepys found (May 24th) all the news is " of the Plague
growing upon us in this town, and of remedies against it, some saying one thing
and some another." Early in June the weather was remarkably hot; the 7th
" the hottest day," says Pepys, ''that ever I felt in my life;" and he adds: —
*' This day^ much against my will, I did in Drury Lane see two or three houses
marked with a red cross upon the doors, and ' Lord have mercy upon us ' writ
there." Under the influence of a hot and stagnant atmosphere the pestilence
rapidly extended in the month of June, the number of deaths rising from 112 tc
168, and in the last week to 267. A general panic seized the inhabitants,
especially those at the West End, the infection having spread from its centre in
St. Giles's over the adjacent parishes. The nobility and gentry began to leave
town, and the Court soon followed. The following entries are from Pepys :
June 20th. — " This day I informed myself that there died four or five at West-
minster of the Plague^ in several houses, upon Sunday last, in Bell Alley, over
against the Palace-gate." June 21st. — " I find all the town going out of town,
the coaches and carriages being all full of people going into the country.'!
June 25th. — ''The Plague increases mightily; I this day seeing a house, at a!
bitt-maker's, over against St. Clement's Church, in the open street, shut upj
which is a sad sight." June 28th. — " In my way to Westminster Hall, I
observed several plague-houses in King s Street and the Palace." June 29th.—
" To Whitehall, where the court was full of waggons and people ready to go out
of town. This end of the town every day grows very bad of the Plague. The
Mortality Bill is come to 267, which is about ninety more than the last. Home,
calling at Somerset House, where all were packing up too." Lingard says, "Foi
some weeks the tide of emigration flowed from every outlet towards the country
it was checked at last by the refusal of the Lord Mayor to grant certificates o
health, and by the opposition of the neighbouring townships, which rose in theii
own defence, and formed a barrier round the devoted city^"
The mortality was for some time confined chiefly to the poorer classes, th(
greater proportion of victims being children and females. On the 13th of Ma}
a Court of Privy Council had been held at Whitehall, when a Committee of the
Lords was formed for "prevention of the spreading of the infection;" and, unde
their orders, directions drawn up by the College of Physicians were issued, whicl
contained instructions for the treatment of the Plague, and for preventing in
fection, one of which was as follows : — " Pull off the feather from the tails o
BILLS OF MORTALFIT. 231
living cocks, hens, pigeons, or chickens; and holding their bills, hold them hard
to the botch or swelling, and so they keep them at that part till they die, and by
this means draw out the poison. It is good to apply a cupping-trlass, or embers
in a dish, with a handful of sorrel upon the embers." *' High-Dutch physicians,"
" famous physicians," and quacks of all kinds, were busy at work distributing'*
their invitations for people to come to them for "infallible preventive pills'
against the Plague," ''never-failing preservatives," ''sovereign cordials a'^-ainst
the corruption of the air," "universal remedies," the " only true x^la<rue-water."
** Constantine Rhodocanaceis, a Grecian," advertised that he " hath at a suiall
price that admirable preservative against the Plague, wherewith Hippocrates,
the Prince of all Physicians, preserved the whole land of Greece." Pepys tells
us that " My Lady Carteret did this day give me a bottle of plague-water home
with me." Many persons wore amulets; and others produced inllammation
of the tonsils by keeping myrrh, angelica, ginger, and other hot spices in their
mouths. Bv the end of July, however, so destructive had the ravasres of the
disease become, that the faith in quacks was pretty nigh extinguished. In the
first week the deaths were 470, and in the last they had risen to 1843. The
disease was at its height in St. Giles's-in-the-Fields, St. Andrew's, Holborn, St.
Clement's Danes, St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, and in Westminster, in July. Then
decreasing in these parishes, and travelling eastward, it raged in Cripple^-atc,
St. Sepulchre's, St. James's Clerkenwell, and St. Bride's, and Aldersgate ; while
the City, Southwark, Stepney, Whitechapel, Aldgate, Wapping, and Ratclilfe
remained comparatively free. Early in July the City authorities, availin<^
themselves of an Act of James L, '' for the charitable relief and ordering of per-
sons infected with the Plague," established the following regulations. They
divided the City into districts, and appointed surgeons, examiners, searchers,
nurses, watchmen, and buryers in each, who were required to hold a red rod or
wand of three feet in length, open and evident to be seen, as they passed through
the streets. They ordered that every house which the disease might enter should
be marked by a red cross, a foot in length, painted on the door, with the words
"Lord have mercy upon us " placed above it. The house was then to be closed,
and all egress prevented for the space of one month. The order directed, " That
the constables see every house shut up, and to be attended with watchmen, which
may keep them in, and minister necessaries unto them at their own charges (if
they be able), or at the common charge, if they be unable." Many who were
thus shut up, communicating infection one to another, eluded the vigilance of the
watchmen, or bribed them, and by their escape disseminated the contagion.
Regulations were also issued for the speedy burial of the dead. In the daytime
officers were appointed to remove the bodies of persons who died in the public
streets. The dead-cart went its rounds during the night only, and the tinkling
of a bell, and the cry of " Bring out your dead !" intimated to the living the
necessity of performing the last offices for their friends. At the end of alleys
which the dead-cart could not enter, it remained, while the buryers, with links in
their hands, carried forth the victims of the preceding twenty-four hours.
Uncoffined, unaccompanied by mourners, the corpses in the dead-cart were
carried to a common grave capable of holding a large number of persons, and
dug in the churchyard, or, when that was already full, a pit was dug in the out-
skirts of the parish. In the ' Newes ' of August 29th a complaint is made that
232
LONDON.
in some of these burial-places '' the bodies are piled even to the level of the
ground, and thereby poison the whole neighbourhood." None but the refuse of
society could be procured to bury the dead. Besides the two principal pest-
houses, one in the fields beyond Old Street, removed in 1 737 (the site of which
was long afterwards indicated by a small street called Pest-house Row), and one
at Tothill Fields in Westminster, there were other temporary ones in different
parts of London ; but they were not general receptacles for infected persons, but
only for those who could pay for being allowed to remain.
[Pe.st House in Totliill Fields, Westminster. From ii Print by Hollar.]
Early in August the Plague began to make its way more rapidly in the City.
In the same space of ground which now contains a population of 54,000, there
were at this period nearly three times that number crowded in narrow and badly
ventilated streets. The general condition of the City, except in one or two great
thoroughfares, resembled the worst-conditioned '' rookeries " of the present day.
Less attention was paid to personal cleanliness, and refuse accumulated in the
streets, and both the sewerage and the supply of water was defective. The poorer
population might not be scantily fed, but their diet was less favourable to health
and of a less wholesome variety than the same classes can now obtain. These
were predisposing causes of the Plague. From the 25th of July to the 1st of
August the deaths in the ninety-seven parishes, of all diseases, were only 228,
but by the end of the month and the beginning of September the pestilence swept
over the City with a fury which had not marked its visitations in the out-parishes.
The general return of deaths in the weekly Bills rose from 2010, for the week
ending August 1st, to 7165, in the week ending Sept. 19th. From August 22nd
to September 26th the number of deaths from all causes was 38,195. The Rev.
Thomas Vincent, in his tract entitled ' God's Terrible Voice in the City,' gives a
fearful picture of the rapid progress of the Plague in August and September.
BILLS OF MORTALITY. 233
f In August/' lie says, '' how dreadful is the increase ! Now the cloud is very
)lack, and the storm comes down upon us very sharp. Now death rides
jriumphantly on his pale horse through our streets, and breaks into every house
Imost where any inhabitants are to be found. Now people fall as thick as the
eaves in autumn when they are shaken by a mighty wind. Now there is a
iismal solitude in London streets; every day looks with the face of a Sabbath-
ay, observed with a greater solemnity than it used to be in the City. Now shops
re shut in, people rare and very few that walk about, insomuch that the grass
legins to spring up in some places, and a deep silence in every place, especially
/ithin the walls. No prancing horses, no rattling coaches, no calling in customers
or offering wares, no London Cries sounding in the cars. If any voice be heard
■ is the groans of dying persons breathing forth their last, and the funeral knells
f them that are ready to be carried to their graves. Now shutting up of visited
ouses (there being so many) is at an end, and most of the well are mingled
mong the sick, which otherwise would have got no help. Now, in some places,
•here the people did generally stay, not one house in a hundred but what is
ffected; and in many houses half the family is swept away ; in some, from the
Idest to the youngest : few escape but with the death of one or two. Never did
) many husbands and wives die together; never did so many parents carry their
tiildren with them to the grave, and go together into the same house under earth
ho had lived together in the same house uj)on it. Now the nights are too short
) bury the dead : the whole day, though at so great a length, is hardly sufficient
) light the dead that fall thereon into their graves." Speaking of the month of
eptember, Mr. Vincent says : — '" Now the grave doth open its mouth without
leasure.' Multitudes! multitudes, in the valley of the shadow of death, throng-
ig daily into eternity. The churchyards now are stuffed so full with dead
)rpses, that they are in many places swelled two or three feet higher than they
ere before, and new ground is broken up to bury the dead." Strong-minded
en were bewildered amidst the harrowing scenes which surrounded them,
wful predictions and tales of supernatural calamities increased the horrors of
le time. A sword of flame, stretching in the heavens from Westminster to the
lower, was seen by crowds ; for disorders of the mind and morbid fancies follow
. the train of a great pestilence. Fanatics walked through the streets denouncing
'le judgments of heaven on the inhabitants; one bearing on his head a pan of
arning coals; another proclaiming — *' Yet forty days and London shall be
|?stroyed ; '' a third constantly going about uttering as he past, in deep and
ilemn tones, " Oh the great and dreadful God ! " The ravings of the delirious,
iie paroxysms of persons struck with the Plague, the wailings of those who had
:st all their relatives and friends, were common sights and sounds in the public
ilreets.
I On the 2nd of September the Lord Mayor issued a proclamation by the advice of
ie Duke of Albemarle and of the Aldermen, enjoining fires to be kindled in every
jreet, court, and alley of London and Westminster, to purify the pestilential air ;
'2very six houses on each side of the way, which will be twelve houses, are to
jin together to provide firing for three whole nights and three whole days, to be
ade in one great fire before the door of the middlemost inhabitant ; and one or
ore persons to be appointed to keep the fire constantly burning, without sufFer-
g the same to be extinguished or go out all the time aforesaid." These injunc-
234 LONDON.
tions were followed, and the fires were lighted on the 6th of September and kepi
burning until a heavy and continuous rain extinguished them. In the weel
ending September 12th there was a slight decrease in the number of deaths^ bul
in the following week they were higher than they had yet been. Dr. Hodges, i
physician practising at the time in London, Avho wrote a history of the Plague
entitled ' Loimologia,' states that on one night of this week more than four thou
sand deaths occurred. The disease had now reached its point of culmination
and in the week following the deaths (from the Plague) diminished 1632, or fron
7165 to 5533; and for the remainder of the year they were, for each Aveek, aj
follows:— Weeks ending 3rd October, 4929; 10th, 4327; 17th, 2665; 24th
1421; 31st, 1031; in the week ending November 7th, they rose again to 1414
as many persons who had removed now returned, and there was less caution usee
in avoiding the contagion. In the following week the number declined to 1050
in the week ending 21st, to 652 ; 28th, to 333 ; and in the first week of Decemben
they were only 210; but in the weeks ending 12th and 19th they again rose tc
243 and 281. But the citizens had now become reassured, and returned to theii
homes or resumed their wonted employments. The total deaths of the
year were 97,306, of which 68,596 were of the Plague; but most writers assert
that the number was greater, as in the confusion and consternation which pre
vailed, and the frequent deaths of clerks and sextons by whom the returns wen
made, an exact account could not be kept. Evelyn, Pepys, and a few other
writers give us a picture of the external appearance of London during this perioi
of desolation. Several thousand houses were shut up, the inhabitants of whicl
had either died or fled into the country. Many thousand servants were lefi
homeless, and artisans and labourers were deprived of employment. Sonu
found employment as nurses, watchmen, and in the performance of other dutic
created by the necessities of the time. Charity was dispensed with a free hand, thi
King giving 1000/. a-week; the City 600Z. ; and the Archbishop of Canterbury
and others were free with their bounty. The markets, throughout all the timt
of the Plague, were supplied, through the exertions of the City authorities, mncl
better than could have been expected. The west-end of the town was the firs
to be deserted, and, July 22nd, Pepys, returning from St. James's Park, whicl
was "quite locked up," met but "two coaches and two carts, from Whitehall t(
my own house, that I could observe, and the streets mighty thin of people.
St. Bartholomew's fair was forbidden in August. The Courts of Law wen
adjourned to Oxford in October; and the Exchequer Court was removed t(
Nonsuch, in Surrey, about the middle of August. September 7th, when th(|
Plague was at its height in the City, Evelyn says, " I went all along the City anc
suburbs, from Kent Street to St. James's, a dismal passage, and dangerous t(
see so many coffins exposed in the streets, now thin of people ; the shops shut u]
and all in mournful silence, as not knowing whose turn it might be next." Sep
tember 14th Pepys visited the Exchange, which he wondered to see so full
" about two hundred people, but plain men all. .... And Lord ! to see how .
did endeavour, all I could, to talk with as few as I could, there being now nf
observation of shutting up of houses infected, that to be sure we do converse anc
meet with people that have the Plague upon them." September 20th, Pepyi
has an entry as follows : — " To Lambeth : — but Lord ! what a sad time it is, t(
see no boats upon the river, and grass grows all up and down Whitehall Court
BILLS OF MORTALITY. 235
and nobody but wretches in the street 1" Many of the churches were forsaken by
the parochial clergy, and their pulpits were frequently occupied by those ejected
by the Act of Uniformity. February 4th, Pepys and his wife went, for the first
time after the Pla<^ue, to their church in St. Olave, Hart Street, where the clero-y.
man, who had been the first to leave and the last to return to the parish,
"made a very poor and short excuse and a bad sermon." The Archbishop of
Canterbury remained at his post. By the end of November, according to Pepys,
the York waggon recommenced its journeys to London, after having discontinued
travelling for several months. Early in December the town began to fdl, so
much so that Pepys feared it would cause the Plague to increase again. On the
31st of December he writes that the shops begin to be open. The West End still
continued comparatively empty ; and on the 19th of January Pepys observes — ''It
is a remarkable thing how infinitely naked all that end of the town, Covent
Garden is, at this day, of people ; while the City is almost as full of people as ever
it was." Again we quote Pepys, who, under date January 31st, writes — ''To
Whitehall, and to my great joy, people begin to bustle up and down there."
Early in February the Court returned to Whitehall, which tended greatly to
the revival of confidence, and " the town every day filled marvellously," according
to Clarendon, who adds, that " before the end of March, the streets were as full,
the Exchange as much crowded, and the people in all places as numerous as they
had ever been seen."
It is evident that the apprehension or existence of the Plague conferred upon
the Bills of Mortality their chief value and interest. The Lord Mayor every
week transmitted a copy to the Court ; and on one of his visits to Whitehall
Pepys says, the Duke of Albemarle " showed us the number of the Plague this
week, brought in last night from the Lord Mayor." The reports are still pro-
fessed to be made weekly " to the Queen s Most Excellent Majesty and the Right
Honourable the Lord Mayor." They profess, moreover, to report the christen-
ings and burials at the parish churches within the City of London and Bills of
Mortality ; that is, to have any utility at all, they should give the weekly and
annual number of births and deaths (marriages they have never pretended to
give) in a population of about 1,350,313, a contribution to statistical knowledge
much to be valued. Not less important is it to ascertain the " diseases and
casualties " in the population of the metropolis, and the ages " of the number
buried." In the year 1842, then, it would appear at the first glance that, in a
population of 1,350,313, there occurred 15,245 births, and the average duration
of life for each person should be above 80 years to keep the population at its
present height ; but as we find in the Bills, that of those born nearly one-third
are cut off before they attain the age of five, what must be the average age neces-
sary to keep a population of 1,350,313 from declining, making ample allowance
for immigration ? Once upon a time the deaths in the City population were about
1 in 20, but now, apparently at least, they are not I in 100, a great extension of
human life from an average duration of twenty years to above a century !
Nosology is a branch of medical knowledge which has been greatly improved
within the last few years; but out of 13,142 deaths, only 8504 are assigned to
the fifty-five heads of disease which have a place in the Bills, and 538 are attri-
buted to the vague term " inflammation." We have stated that the deaths in
the week ending the 18th November amounted to upwards of 300 above the
236 LONDON.
average mortality ; but the ' Weekly Bill of Mortality,' issued by the printer '' to
the Worshipful Company of Parish Clerks," and applying to a population of
1,350,313, instead of 1,870,727, gives us the comfortable assurance that ''the
decrease in the burials reported this week is 149 ;" and this is the report made to
the Queen's Majesty and the Lord Mayor. Now, without being unduly cen-
sorious, we may be allowed to express regret that an institution which once justly
claimed respect and gratitude should not at once have been put an end to when
its functions ceased to be useful and its authority was no longer entitled to
respect. The Bills of Mortality are now utterly valueless. In 1832 they reported
28,606 deaths, and in 1842 only 13,142, while the population had been constantly
increasing at a rapid rate. In 1833, out of 26,577 deaths, the causes of decease
were returned as unknown in 887 cases, or 1 in 30 ; and in 1842, out of 13,142
deaths, 4638 are returned in v/hich the cause of decease was unknown, or less
than 1 in 3. The Company of Parish Clerks might at least have expected to
have been supplied with the returns of mortality from the clerks of the metro-
politan churches; but this is not the case. The parish of St. George's, Hanover
Square, ceased to make returns in 1823; and in 1832 the parishes of All Saints,
Poplar, and St. John's, Wapping, followed its example ; and in 1834 the clerks
of St. Bartholomew the Less and St. George's, Queen Square, became defaulters.
The fact is, that instead of 13,142 deaths being reported annually, there should
be about 33,000. Besides the contumacious parishes which refuse to contribute to
the formation of correct Bills of Mortality for the metropolis, there are no means
by which the Parish Clerks' Company can procure returns of the burials in
cemeteries and in the places of interment belonging to dissenters; and the defects
from this cause, in Maitland's time, now above a century since, exceeded 3000
a-year.
As we would speak with real respect of the past exertions of those who for
above two centuries have had the preparation of the Bills of Mortality, so we
may be allowed to compare the ' Table of Mortality in the Metropolis' issued
weekly from the office of the Registrar-General at Somerset House with the old
' Weekly Bill' still issued by the parish clerks. The new system of registration
commenced July 1st, 1837, and under the Act for establishing it the registration
of all births, marriages, and deaths became compulsory. In the case of deaths
the funeral ceremony cannot be performed unless the clergyman or minister has
received a certificate from the district registrar stating that proper information
has been given respecting the person who has died, the age, and the cause of
decease. Thus the ' Table' cannot be rendered defective by contumacious parish
clerks, nor by the interment of dissenters in burial-grounds attached to their
meeting-houses : the inference is, that it is as perfectly accurate as it is possible
to be — a reality and not a sham. The Registration Act has necessarily put to
the rout those ancient matrons called "searchers," who until within the last half-
dozen years were accustomed to go, as in Graunt's time, to inspect the bodies of
deceased persons for the purpose of enabling the Parish Clerks' Company to
compile their weekly and annual medical statistics. At the foot of the Bill of
Mortality for 1837 there was a notice to the following effect :—'' By the operation
of the new Registration Act much difficulty has occurred in obtaining the reports
of christenings and burials ; in consequence of which, in some parishes, the re-
ports have been wholly withheld ; and in those of several other parishes where
BILLS OF MORTALITY.
237
the office of searcher has been discontirmed, the diseases of which deaths have
taken place have been necessarily omitted :" they were added to the " unknown
causes." In the Bill for 1842, as already noticed, the difficulty here spoken of
has increased. The only '' true Bill" therefore is that prepared at the Ilegistrar-
General's office. The first of these Weekly Bills was commenced January iith,
1840, and the series has been continued from that time without interruption.
The total number of deaths in the week, in a population of 1,880,727, ranges
from 734 to upwards of 1300. The registrars who officiate within the districts
which comprise this population amount altogether to 124. They are supplied
with blank forms, in which they are required at the termination of the week to
copy from the register-books the age and cause of death in every entry which has
been made during the week. The forms are then immediately forwarded to the
office of the Registrar- General. Notes are here^ taken of any extraordinary forms
of disease, and of all cases in which the circumstances attending death appear
to be of a remarkable character. The department of Vital Statistics is superin-
tended by Mr. Farr, whose valuable reports are well known. The deaths are next
carefully counted, noticing the distinction of sex, and the numbers are then en-
tered in a book opposite the several districts in which they occurred. The ages
and diseases are now transferred by means of mai^ks to a printed and ruled sheet
prepared fpr^ the purpose, and which contains entries of ninety-four distinct
diseases and casualties. The very valuable articles on 'Nosology' in the First
Annual Report of the Registrar-General, and the * Statistical Nosology' in the
Fourth Report, have been printed separately, and copies sent to all the registrars
in England and Wales. They show the principle on which the innumerable
varieties of disease are classified, and are calculated to render the returns more
accurate. The weekly ' Table' shows the number of deaths under each of ninety-
four heads, and to a certain extent distinguishes the ages by a comprehensive clas-
sification, as *' under 15," "GO and upwards," &c., the minuter specification of
iges being given in the ' Annual Report,' Avhich instead of being a demy half-
iheet is a tolerably sized volume. We annex an abstract of the ' Table of the
Mortality in the Metropolis, showing the Number of Deaths from all Causes
registered in the week ending Saturday the 18th November, 1843 ;' to which we
have added an additional column showing the number of deaths in one year: —
Epidemic, Endemic, and Contagious Diseases .
Diseases of the Brain, Nevves, and Senses
Diseases of the Lungs, and other Organs of Respiration
Diseases of the Heart and Blood-vessels . .
Diseases of the Stomach, Liver, and other Organs of Digestion
Diseases of the Kidneys, &c. ....
Childbed, Diseases of the Uterus, &c.
Diseases of the Joints, Bones, and Muscles
Diseases of the Skin, &c. .....
Dropsy, Cancer, and other Diseases of Uncertain Seat
Old Age, or Natural Decay ....
Deaths by Violence ,..,..
Privation, or Intemperance .....
Causes not specified ......
Deaths from all causes , . , . .
Week
ending
18th Nov.
•227
170
459
30
75
9
9
11
3
107
100
26
2
2
1230
Weekly Average
During
5 Antumns 5 Years.
183
140
278
20
59
5
10
G
1
106
69
23
11
8
908
182
148
2GS
18
62
5
9
6
I
105
GS
24
11
5
903
Total
Deatlis in
1840.
8,361
7,907
13,985
997
3,405
241
473
312
63
5,612
3,471
1,253
43
155
46,281
238
LONDON.
The second and third columns present the weekly average for five seasons and
for five years, namely, 1838-39-40-1-2, comprising, with the exception of the
present year, and the latter half oP 1837, the whole period during Avhich the
Registration Act has been in operation. We are thus furnished with a standard
by which the rise or fall of mortality from any disease (it must be recollected
that we only present an ahstract of ninety-four different heads) may be detected
at a glance.
In fixing the limits of the metropolitan registration district the Hegistrar-Gene-
ral determined to apply the term metropolis in the most extensive sense of
which it was susceptible, including every Superintendent- Registrar's district into
which the suburbs extended continuously, and which, with the exception of incon-
siderable portions, assumed throughout the character of town. At the office there
is a map of the metropolis, in which the boundaries of the thirty-three Superin-
tendent-Registrars' districts and those of the Registrars' districts, into which the
former are subdivided, are accurately traced. We are informed that Wands-
worth and Clapham will next year be added, as a thirty-fourth district. The
following is a rough classification of the metropolitan district into five great divi-
sions, with the population and number of deaths in each, for the week ending 18th
November.
Averag
e Weekly
2 'c
1 =" d
Population
Deaths,
«§§2-
Enumerated,
1838-39-40-1-2.
*?; i2 'S ~ ■"
1 '4'tl
^ .^^
c ;: rt 1?
1 o*r 1 *
5 Years.
5 Autumns
West Districts.
Kensington; Chelsea; St. George, Hanover Square ; West-
minster; St. Martin in the Fields; St. James
300,705
135
130
183
44-(>
North Districts.
St. Mary-le-bone ; St. Pancras ; Islington; Hackney
365,660
162
1G2
230
43-3
Central Districts.
St. Giles and St. George ; Strand ; Holborn ; Clerken-
well ; St. Luke ; East London ; West London : City of
London ........
373,806
184
183
224
39 2
East Districts.
Shoreditch; Bethnal Green; Whitechapel; St. George in
the East ; Stepney ; Poplar .....
392,496
203
206
285
38-5
South Districts.
St. Saviour ; St. Olave ; Bermondsey ; St. George, South-
wark; Newington ; Lambeth; Cambervvell; Rother-
hithe; Greenwich ......
438,060
219
227
308
,']8'6
Total for the Week ending 18th November : Males, G15 ;
Females, 615. (Weekly average 1838-39-40-1-2, Males,
461 ; Females, 442.)
1,870,727
903
908
1230
40-4
This is scarcely the place even to glance at the advantages of an accurate
registration of the most important events of existence, — birth, marriage, and
death. If it shows that in such a district as Whitechapel the deaths of females
are annually 1 in 28, and in other districts of the metropolis 1 in 57, or not one-
half so man}?^ ; if it points out that the average age at which the largest class cf
persons die is in one district IG years only, while the whole of another class in
the same district attain the average age of forty-five, surely it will cause a mighty
effort to be made to elevate those who are depressed by moral and physical evils,
the causes of which are to a considerable extent remediable.
BILLS OF MORTALITY. 239
The remarkable accuracy of the Mortality TaLles of the Registration Office
shown by the fact that in the one we have abstracted only two cases occur in
irhich the causes of deaths are not specified, that is 1 in 615. In the old Bill for
16 same week the number of unspecified cases is 51 out of 210, or more than 1
n 4. In compiling the New Table, it is in some instances found impossible, in
onsequence of the death or dismissal of a registrar, to obtain a return from the
istrict in which he served until his successor has been appointed. In this event,
jrhich is of rare occurrence, it is usual to substitute an average (say 6 or 10) cal-
ulated on a few weeks preceding, and to explain the circumstance in a marginal
ote. Or it happens that the coroner, who is required by a provision of the Act
0 give information in all cases in which inquests have been held, fails to transmit
lis returns to the registrars within his bounds until the end of the quarter. But
lese are the only irregularities which are incidental to the preparation of these
ills; and fortunately they arc inconsiderable in extent, unimportant as affecting
le weekly results, and, moreover, are of such a nature as to admit of correction
the general summary of the Bills drawn up at the end of the year.
The engravings used as the head and tail pieces in the present number are
ken from that fine series of compositions, improperly attributed to Holbein,
ailed ' Imagines Mortis,' and also the ' Dance of Death,' Sic. Of this ' Dance '
lere were many representations, as Douce tells us, in his work on this subject,
not only on the walls, but on the windows of many churches, in the cloisters of
lonasteries, and even on bridges, especially in Germany and Switzerland. It
as sometimes painted on church screens, and occasionally sculptured on them,
s well as upon the fronts of domestic dwellings. It occurs in many of the
anuscript and illuminated service-books of the Middle Ages. Most of the repre-
3ntations of the Dance of Death were accompanied by descriptive or moral verses
different lanf^uasjes." Paintingrs of the ' Dance of Death,' or Dance of Macha-
ree, as it was sometimes called, constituted a popular picture gallery of the
liddle Ages. There was one in the cloisters of St. Paul's, which is said by Stow
have been executed at the cost of one Jenkin Carpenter, who lived in the reign
f Henry VL It was commonly called the ' Dance of Paul's,' and was destroyed
y the Protector Somerset, who took down the cloisters as described in vol. iv.
. 276. Dugdale says that the painting at St. Paul's was in imitation of that in
16 cloisters of the Church of the Innocents at Paris. A painting of a Death's
ance, in the church of Stratford-on-Avon, probably suggested more than one
assagc in Shakspere. The poem on this subject by Lydgate, the monk of St.
Idmund's Bury, who lived in the first half of the fifteenth century, was doubtless
welcome addition to the popular literature of England. It was entitled ' The
baunce of Machabree, wherein is lively expressed and showed the state of Man,
nd how he is called at uncertain times by Death, and when he thinketh least
lereon ;' and at the end it is said to be translated from the French, —
" Not word by word, but following in substance."
rom the number of characters introduced and the dialogues between each of
lem and Death, the poem has all the interest of a drama : '' Death fyrst speaketh
) the Pope, and after to every degree." The characters introduced arc the
240
LONDON.
Pope^ Emperor, Cardinal, King, Patriarch, Constable, Archbishop, Baron, Prin
cess, Bishop, Squire, Abbot, Abbess, Bayly, Astronomer, Burgess, Councillor;
Merchant, Chartreux, Sergeant, Monk, Usurer, Physician, Amorous Squire,
Gentlewoman, Man of Law, Parson, Juror, Minstrel, Labourer, Friar, Child
Young Clerk, Hermit. The head '' Death speaketh to the King," or other cha-
racter, is repeated throughout, and also the words — " The King (or other person)
maketh aunswer." The verses are simple, and not without touches of natural
feeling coupled with impressive truths delivered in homely but striking language.
They could not fail, as well as the paintings to which they referred, to make a
deep impression on the popular imagination. We give one verse of Lydgate's,
in which, after Death has spoken to the Child, bidding it join the solemn dance—
^' The young Childe maketh aunswer :" —
'* A — a — a — [crying] — a worde I cannot speake,
I am so yonge, 1 was borne yesterday ;
Death is so hasty on me to be wreak,
And list no longer to make no delay.
I am but now born, and now I go my wa3%
Of me no more to tell shall be told ;
The will of God no man withstande may,
As soon dyeth a yong as on old."
[Death and the King.]
i [The Soaue Museum.]
IXLL— THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND SOANE MUSEUM.
NE cannot but wish that the National Gallery had either a less ambitious title,
r that those who have influence over its destinies would hasten to make the col-
ction worthy of such a designation. There is something to our minds painful in
mtemplating the conduct of those who may be said to have represented the
ttion in this matter. From the time, 1823, that the ministry was induced, with
>me difficult}^, to purchase the Angerstein pictures, thirty-eight in number,
rivate benefactors have continually stepped forth, sometimes even giving their
itire collections, the fruits of long years of research and industr}^, and involving
e expenditure of immense sums of money, to promote the formation of an insti-
ition they deemed so desirable : thus, in 1825, Sir George Beaumont, who had
ilf bribed the ministry into the former purchase by a promise of his collection,
jiive 15 pictures; in 1831, the Eev. Holwell Carr bequeathed 34; in 1837,
"leut.-Colonel Olney bequeathed 18; in 1838, Lord Farnborough bequeathed
i; and at various periods numerous other benefactors have presented or be-
ueathed some 50 more, — a total of above 130 pictures, for which we are indebted
1| private munificence. And while all this has been doing for the people, what
Is the people done for itself? Tremble, public economists, as we announce the
VOL. VI. u
242 LONDON.
profligate S3^stem of expenditure which must have "been carried on ! Great Britain
in the first twenty years of its labours in the formation of a Gallery, has actuall
purchased on the average above two pictures a-year — we fear, almost three. It i
a fact that, in this year of grace 1843, we possess not less than 188 pictures, fill
ing very nearly three moderate-sized apartments, and two small ones ! No wonde
that Mr. Wilkins and his supporters built an insufficient Gallery : who could hav
anticipated such headlong work as this ?
But, seriously, if we really do believe in the value of such exhibitions, how ar
we to account for our faith being so very unproductive of tangible results ? Ther
is a collection at Frankfort of recent date, and ov/ing its existence to an individual
which already nearly doubles our collection in the National Gallery ; at Berlin
gallery was commenced about the same period as the latter, and it has alread
about 900 pictures; the Dresden Gallery contains about 1200; the Louvre, 1350
the Florentine, 1500; whilst Louis of Bavaria and his people possess, in th
magnificent Pinacothek at Munich, a gallery numbering no less than 1600 pictures
Is it that the people of England have no taste for these things? The late Cartoo
exhibition has set at rest that notion for ever. But the National Gallery itsel
destitute as we shall by and by show it is of any kindly assistance to the pooi
humble^ and necessarily artistically ignorant class of visitors, whom it is most de
sirable to see there, yet presents in its own records decisive testimony that it ]
not the people who are indifferent. Let us but think for a moment of the averag
daily number of visitors, nearly 3000, or of the extent to which a holiday oppoi
tunity is used — by 14,000 persons, for instance, on a Whit Monday — or of th
growing increase, almost as striking here as at the Museum, from 130,000 visitoi
in the year 1835, to 768,244 in the year October, 1839, to October, 1840, and w
must be still more surprised at the pitiful spirit in which the National Galler
has been treated.
But, of course, what pictures we have are arranged to the best advantagi
There must be keepers and attendants, and we have a right to presume corr
petent ones ; men who understand that *' a Gallery like this — a National Galler
— is not merely for the pleasure and civilization of our people, but also for the
instruction in the value and significance of art ;" who know how the " history (
the progress of painting is connected with the history of manners, morals, an
government, and, above all, with the history of our religion," and are able 1
develope their understanding and knowledge in practice by a consummate arrangt
ment of the works under their charge. Let us see. As we ascend the staircase
two cartoons, in the darker part of the passage at the top, first catch the eye-
evidently fine ones, though we can with difficulty make out the outlines ; tl
subjects are Cephalus and Aurora, and Galatea, by Agostino Caracci, formin
the painter's studies for the two chief lateral compartments in the fresco ceilin
of the Farnese Gallery at Rome. No doubt there must be some fine object
view in placing them here, isolated from and advanced before all the other worl
of art, and in a situation so disadvantageous to themselves as regards ligh
though we own we do not perceive what that object is; and Avhilst we don't choo;
to believe that it is because it is a cartoon particularly requiring light and caref
choice of place that it is put here, as a bystander informs us, we are unable
answer the calumny ; so we step into the little room on the right, hoping to fir
THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND SOANE MUSEUM. 243
bere the commencement (or perhaps the termination) of the pictorial history so
^ell described by the lady (Mrs. Jameson) whose sentences we have before
j-anscribed. Hogarth's portrait, and his series of pictures, 'Marriage a la Mode'
-Gainsborough, Wilson, Wilkie— yes, this room must be devoted to the English
|;hool — ay, West, Reynolds, here they are. But what is this? Canaletti ;
[irely he was not an Englishman : Lancret, too, the French scholar and imitator
'Watteau. We are puzzled. Let us try the other little room on the opposite
ie of the passage. English again : Sir Thomas Lawrence's beautiful picture of
)hn Kemble as Hamlet, West, Hoppner; but here, too, is Canaletti, again re-
•esenting his school, the Venetian — nor he alone, some of the Dutch painters'
)rks keep his and the Englishmen's company. What can all this mean ?
irely the pictures are not hung up in disregard of any order whatever, whether
^ school or time ? Suppose we step forward into the suite of three apartments
yond us. Well, in the first of them, here is English Reynolds, in his pic-
^re of the three Graces around the altar of Hymen ; Italian Domenichino,
th his ' Stoning of Stephen ;' French Nicholas Poussin, with his Phineas and
; followers turned to stone at the sight of the Gorgon's head ; Neapolitan
Hvator Rosa, Spanish Velasquez, Dutch John Both, Flemish — no, we do not
s^ any Flemish picture, so we must give up the idea of the representation of all
t ) schools, that we began to fancy was aimed at. It is hardly necessary after
t s to go into the two other rooms to perceive that the fact is that our National
(Jlery, while miserably small in its extent for such a nation as England, is posi-
tely disgraceful in its arrangements; that so far from teaching its humble
Vjitors any portion of the history of art, it perplexes and confounds whatever
lile knowledge of it they may possess, by the inextricable jumble presented of
w;ks of different countries, different periods of time, and essentially different
S(ools or classes of painting. The authoritative explanation of such a state of
thgs is not the least curious part of the business. The iate keeper, Mr. Seguier,
w.; examined on the subject by a parliamentary committee^; and here is a spe-
cien of the evidence. He is asked, '" Has there been no provision in the plan
oi:he National Gallery for the historical arrangement of pictures according to
sools, and for making a distinction between the great schools of Italy, and the
di^rent national schools ?" to which he answers, '' I should douht whether there
is )om for that." When further asked if he has ever turned his attention to
sui '' arrangement in schools, and their division so as to make them as much
li orical as possible ; connecting the masters with the pupils, and giving an
Uiructive as well as an interesting view to the public of the pictures before
hn?" the reply is, '' I think that would be exceedingly desirable; but that,
'ie^aps, can only be done in a very large collection." And why.'' It is true that
had a building worthy to contain a National Gallery of pictures, much more
oa would be occupied by them*, under an excellent system of arrangement,
hi now ; because the absent individual pictorial facts required to complete
h^ general pictorial history would be marked by bare spaces, at once telling
ht would be very desirable to be known, that there were such deficiencies, and
ety for the accommodation of the pictures that properly belonged to them,
i^bliever these might be attained. But what has this to do with the essential
lu'tion of arrangement or no arrangement in the existing building? The
R 2
244: LONDON.
pictures miglit certainly be grouped together into schools, and with a due oh
servance of the more important epochs as to the matter of time, without takino
up an inch of extra room ; and we are happy to see that even in Mr. Seguier'i
case there were only a " a douht" and a " perhaps" between his opinions ant
our own. With Mr. Seguier's successor, just appointed, there can be little fear
we imagine, that such innocent words will be any longer allowed to do so mucl
mischief. That appointment seems to us full of promise for the future prosperity
of the National Gallery ; and makes the present a peculiarly fitting time for th(
introduction of the topics on which we have taken the liberty to say a few word:
— progress — improvement. As regards the general management of the institu
tion, it is most liberal and judicious ; the public are admitted the first four dayi
in the week, without fees or invidious distinctions ; the other two days are appro
priated to the use of students. The entire annual expense of the Gallery ii
somewhat short of lOOOZ. a-year.
We propose now to look at the contents of the Gallery in something like th(
order we may suppose would be observed under a better system. Unfortunately
we seek in vain in Trafalgar Square any " collection of specimens in painting frpir
the earliest times of its revival, tracing the pictorial representations of sacre(
subjects from the ancient Byzantine types of the heads of Madonnas and Apostles
through the gradual development of taste in design and sensibility to colour
aided by the progress in science, which at .length burst out in fullest splendou
when Lionardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Correggio, and Titian wer
living at the same time." But commencing with these men, the grand masters o
the schools of modern painting, the chief features of European artistlcal histor
may be traced downwards to the present time, with sufficient precision for ordinar
purposes, by means of these 188 pictures. Of the works of that universal am
precocious genius, Lionardo da Vinci (1452-1519),* who made his own maste
give up painting altogether in despair in consequence of the superiority of
single figure ^painted by the pupil in a picture the master had in hand of th
' Baptism of Christ,' we have but one example, ' Christ disputing with th
Doctors,' which has become so completely a matter of doubt, that its subject an
painter have been both questioned. It is said really to represent Joseph intei
preting Pharaoh's Dream, v/hich agrees better certainly with the age, and expres
sion of the principal figure, and the work has been ascribed to Bernardino Luir
by Waagen, and to Andrea Solario by a well-informed writer in the ' British an
Foreign Keview.' Mrs. Jameson considers the design to bear too much ev:
denceof the master's style to be for amoment doubted, whilst inclining apparentl
to the general belief that it was executed by one of Lionardo's best scholar
Passing from the founder of the Milan school to the still greater founder of th
Florentine, Michael Angelo (1474-1563), we are again reminded of the defed
of the Gallery. Of all the works of that mighty master-spirit, we have here r
originals direct from his hand ; the extraordinary little picture entitled ' Micha(
Angelo's Dream' being but a fine copy, and the painter's share in the "^ Raisin
of Lazarus,' one of the most important works in the Gallery, is confined to tl
composition and drawing, the picture itself being painted by Sebastian a.
Piombo, a glorious portrait-painter and colourist, but unequal to the sublimitK
* Dates of birth and death.
THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND SOANE MUSEUM. 245
JFsuch a work. Michael Angelo is known to have frequently assisted Sebastian,
ho was one of the few that supported his cause in the contest then <>-oin<>' on
etween his partisans and those of Raphael; but the general history of the ' Raisino-
jf Lazarus' furnishes more direct evidence of the connection; notwithstandin"* the
rcumstance that the exact facts are in dispute. Mrs. Jameson believes them
) have been these : — Michael Angelo, with characteristic haughtiness, disdained
) enter into any acknowledged rivalry with Raphael, and put forward Sebastian del
iombo as no unworthy competitor of the great Roman painter. Raphael bowed
efore Michael Angelo, but he felt too strongly his superiority to Sebastian to
ieldthe palm to him. To determine this point, the Cardinal Giulio de Medici,
'terward Clement VIL, commanded this picture of the ' Raising of Lazarus
om Sebastian, and at the same time commissioned Raphael to paint the
llransfiguration ;' both were intended by the Cardinal as altar-pieces for his
ithedral of Narbonne, he having lately been created Archbishop of Narbonne
y Francis I. On this occasion, Michael Angelo, well aware of the deficiencies of
IS friend Sebastian, furnished him with the design, and, as it is supposed, drew
)me of the figures himself on the canvas;* but he was so far from doing this
■cretly, that Raphael heard of it, and is said to have exclaimed, '^ Michael
ngelo has graciously favoured me, in that he has deemed me worthy to compete
ith himself, and not with Sebastian." The two pictures were exhibited toge-
ler at Rome in 1520, the year ofRaphael's death; when, according to Vasari,
3th were infinitely admired, though the supereminent grace and beauty of
aphael gained the general suffrage of victory. From Narbonne the ' Raising
^Lazarus' passed into the famous Orleans collection, and thence at the sale in
ngland in 1798 to Mr. Angerstein for 3500 guineas, who it is said was afterwards
[fered 15,0C0/. by Mr. Beckford, but broke the negociation b}^ insisting on
uineas; and again 10^000/. by the French government, in order that they might
lace it by the side of its original rival then in the Louvre, which was also
^fused. The surface was seriously injured until West retouched it — and it is
lid, we know not with what truth, that he so largely worked^upon it as to leave
•arcely any portion of the picture untouched. Two other specimens of the
lorentine school are in the Gallery ; the first a ' Holy Family,' said to be by
ndrea del Sarto, who, after Michael Angelo and Fra Bartolomeo, ranks third
I the school, but which is either not by him, or very unw^orthy of him, though
tifortunately our only presumed specimen of the master; the second, a ^ Portrait,'
f Bronzino.
The four only pictures here that enable us to judge of the state of painting
I'ior to the period of the appearance of the constellation before just enumerated,
•e one by Van Eyck, of which we shall hereafter speak, two by Francia, and one
Y Pietro Perugino, Raphael's master. Francia (1450-1517) belonged to what
ay be termed the early Bolognese school, but the principles on which he painted
re so evidently like those of Perugino, that we may safely look on the three works
5 most interesting and valuable examples of the materials that existed for the
•ection of that mighty school which was to call Raphael architect. Francia's
ictures consist of the two portions of an altar-piece, namely, a * Virgin and Child
* Several of the original drawings by the hand of Michael Angelo, and in particular the first sketches for the
ure of Lazarus, were in the possession of Sir Thomas Lawrence.
246 LONDON. i
I
i
with Saints/ and on a lunette or arch, a ' Dead Christ/ the head supported ij
the Virgin Mother on her lap, and with angels at the head and feet; both s!
pure, so simple, and so divinely holy in character and expression, that the sigl!
of them, amidst the miscellaneous assemblage of pictures around, seems like ,
sudden light from above. And these are by a goldsmith of Bologna, a man wh!
never touched pencil or palette till he was forty ! The ' Virgin and Child, wit
St. John,' by Perugino (1446-1524), has much of the same simplicity, purity, an
elevation, and shows that Raphael's master deserves infinitely more attentio
and honour^ for his own sake, and for what he must have taught his '' divine " pup
than for the mere accidental fact of his having been Raphael's master, which ha
hitherto chiefly made him known in this country. Perhaps, indeed, we have hardl
an instance of one man of such thoroughly original and independent powers as thj
painter of the ' Cartoons,' deriving so much from another, as did the painter c
the exquisite ' Madonnas,' that have filled the civilized world in one form ami
another with the sense of divinest loveliness, many of which are known to havi
been borrowed from Perugino, though enhanced in the borrowing. We arj
certainly richer in our specimens of Raphael (1483-1520) than of the other grea
men we have mentioned. We have the ' St. Catherine,' so noble in conceptioi
and so splendid in execution ; the Cartoon of the ' Murder of the Innocents^
belonging to the same original series of twelve as the seven at Hampton Court
and deposited here by the Governors of the Foundling Hospital, a work whicl
one cannot help fancying must have been traced by the hand as well as the energv
of a giant; and, lastly, the portrait of ' Pope Julius,' almost unequalled in al
the essentials of a grand portrait-painting ; all important works, though still toe
few in number to do justice to this wonderful painter, who, like Shakspere
seemed the product of the mingled greatness of his time. Vasari says of thf
portrait of the Pope, now in the Gallery, that it was so like as to inspire fear a;
if it were alive ; a remark that gives us as fine a glimpse of the character of tk
great patron of Raphael and Michael Angelo, as the story of the statue made by
the latter, who, having exhibited his clay model, the Pope was so struck with the
terrible expression that he asked, '' Am I uttering a blessing or a curse ? '
Michael replied that his object was to represent him admonishing the people oi
Bologna, and asked him if he should place a book in one of the hands. " Give me
a sword ! " was the warlike pontiff's impetuous exclamation ; " I know nothing ol
books." Of the pupils of Raphael, we have a single specimen, a ' Charity,' of his
chief favourite, Giulio Romano (1492-1546), who assisted him in many of his works,
was made by him his chief heir when he died, and what was still more remark
able, commissioned by Raphael's express direction to complete the works he should
leave unfinished. No fear that the reputation of Romano would fall into obli-
vion, even if every one of his productions were to perish ; we should always feel he
must indeed have been a rare painter, to whom Raphael would have confided such
an executorship. The * Charity' is a small picture, and therefore not exactly of the
class to illustrate Romano's excellence ; it is in grand mythological subjects on
a scale of proportionate grandeur that his soul found room to develop itself
worthily. Garofalo (1481-1599), so called from his device, the clove-pink, was
another pupil of Raphael's ; two of his works adorn the Gallery. Of the remaining
painters of the Roman school, Baroccio (1528-1612) contributes one picture, a
THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND SOANE MUSEUM.
247
Holy Family/ reminding as of the saying applied to him as to Parrhasius, that
is personages looked as though they fed on roses; Caravaggio (1569-1609) one,
Christ and his Disciples at Emmaus,' vulgar enough in conception, but rich
nd true in tone, — it was said of him by one of the Caracci, that he '' ground
esh" rather than colour; — Guercino (1590-1666) one, a '^ Dead Christ with two
ngels/ in which we may trace Caravaggio's influence over his friend in the
triking effects of the light and shade, with an elegance and dignity that Cara-
aggio had no conception of; Mola (1612-1668) three, among them a very
eautiful ^Holy Family reposing;' Carlo Maratti (1625-1713) one ; and Pannini
;1691"1764) one.
The remarkable and most harmonious variety of excellencies of the great
eaders in the modern artistical movement is very striking ; it seems almost like a
ew version of the story of Minerva and the head of Jupiter — painting at once
,ppeared to spring upon the world so fully armed and appointed. Whilst Raphael
ave us new conceptions of loveliness in feature and form, of composition, and of
haracter, and Michael Angelo drew gods and men like gods, investing them
ith an almost supernatural grandeur, Titian (1477-1576) and his followers,
ipping their pencils in the rainbow, witch'd the world with their colouring,
eaving to Correggio the perfecting the knowledge of all the subtle mysteries of
ight and shade. And now our Gallery begins to look rich. One, two, three,
bur, five — ^Titians, and three of them, at least, glorious examples of the master.
ook at that great black eagle with outstretched wings soaring away with the
eautiful boy, Ganymede, the future cup-bearer of the gods. What fine con-
[irasts of colour ! what delicious effects of tone in the rosy limbs ! or this ' Venus
md Adonis,' which, in the words of Ludovico Dolce, in a letter to a friend written
m seeing a duplicate, '' no one, however chilled by age or hard of heart, can
>ehold without feeling all the blood in his veins warmed into tenderness :" or,
greatest of all this ' Bacchus and Ariadne,' taken altogether, one of the finest
[hings in existence, and which may be described in the lines that Titian evidently
lad in view when he painted it '' line for line :" —
« Youns Bacchus, flush'd
With bioom of youth, came flying from above
With choirs of Satyrs and Sileni born
In Indian Nyse. Seeking thee he came,
O Ariadne ! with thy love inflamed.
They blithe from every side came revelling on
Distraught with jocund madness, with a burst
Of Bacchic outcries, and with tossing hands.
Some shook their ivy-shrouded spears, and some
From hand to hand, in wild and fitful feast,
Snatch'd a torn heifer's limbs; some girt themselves
With twisted serpents," &c.
Catullus.
'hey meet— Bacchus and Ariadne— on the sea-shore, the god leaping impatiently
[rem his chariot, the distressed maiden startled for a moment out of her accus-
|omed thoughts of the flown Theseus, but passing hurriedly on. We must not
Iwell on the remaining pictures by Titian, ^ The Concert,' and 'The Holy Family
dth the Shepherds adoring.' Of the other illustrious of the school of the city
If the waters, Giorgione (1477-1511) is said to have painted the ^ Death of
248 LONDON.
Peter the Martyr' that is in the Gallery; but the work suggests little of the
merits of him who was no unworthy rival of Titian, and, according to Waagen, it
is ascribed to him on insufficient grounds. We have already mentioned the share
that Sebastian del Pioonbo (1485-1547) had in the great picture of the ' Eaising
of Lazarus.' Of his own works there are two; a portrait of Giulia Gonzaga, and
a picture with portraits of himself (a magnificent-looking fellow, certainly, with a
beard that would do honour to an Eastern emperor) and Cardinal Hippolito, the
Msecenas of his time^ who, without territories or subjects, lived at Bologna in a
state that surpassed any Italian potentate's ; and when the Pope caused some
representation to be made to him as to the propriety of dismissing some of his
retainers, as unnecessary to him, replied, " I do not retain them in my court
because I have occasion for their services, but because they have occasion for
mine.'' The " fiery Tintoretto" is represented in the Gallery by a 'St. George '
and the Dragon.' This is the painter of whom the curious story is told:— He
was sent as a scholar to Titian whilst young, and a few days after Titian happened
to find some very spirited drawings lying about his studio, and inquired as to t
author. Tintoretto stepped forward, no doubt proud enough ; when Titian ordere
another scholar to — conduct him home. Tintoretto then purchased casts, chiefly
from Michael Angelo's statues, inscribed his artistical faith on the walls of his
apartment — Michael Angelo's design and Titian's colour — and set to work : the
result was that, without particularly imitating either, he became what he desired,
and in a high sense of the term — a painter. The other productions of the Yenetiai
school are a portrait by Bassano (1510-1592), the Italian Rembrandt, as he has
been called ; a curious picture representing the building of the Tower of Babel,j
where the mode of building so important a work seems as primitive as the time,i
by Bassano's son, Leandro (1558-1623) ; a ' Consecration of St. Nicholas,' and a
* Rape of Europa,' by Paul Veronese (1530-1588), the first a very fine work, bul
still giving us inadequate notions of the gorgeous style of the artist; a ' Cornelia
and her Children,' by Padovanino (1552-1617) ; a ' Cupid and Psyche,' by Ales-
sandro Veronese (1582-1648), called also L'Orbetto, from a noticeable event in
the painter's history, his having when a boy led about an old blind beggar, said
to have been his own father; and Canaletti (1697-1768), from whom we have
three pictures, views in and round Venice, the subjects that of all others his fancy
best loved to luxuriate in.
" If I were not Titian, I would be Correggio," said the great Venetian, on
seeing one of the works of the latter ; and we can feel the full force of the
eloquent and most significant exclamation, as we look upon these treasures of art,
the ' Mercury and Venus teaching Cupid to read,' the ' Ecce Homo' (who that
has once seen can ever forget the face of the Virgin Mary in that picture, which
is finer even than that of Christ), and ' The Holy Family ' (La Vierge au Panier),
three of the great artist"'s greatest works : nor are these all our possessions ; there
are two different pictures of studies of heads, angels and seraphim, and the
* Christ on the Mount of Olives ;' though this last is either a copy or a duplicate
of the original in the possession of the Duke of Wellington. Of the ' Mercury
and Venus,' by Correggio (1494-1534), it has been said, that " all that is neces-
sary to enable the student in art to comprehend his (Correggio's) excellences
may be found in this lovely picture. There is first that peculiar grace to which
THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND SOANE MUSEUM.
249
he Italians have given the name of Corrcgksque, very properly, for it was the
omplexion of the individual mind and temperament of the artist stamped upon
he work of his hand. Though so often imitated, it remains, in fact, inimitable,
very attempt degenerating into an affectation of the most intolerable kind. It
onsists in the blending of sentiment in expression with a flowintr o-race of form
an exquisite fulness and 'softness in the tone and colour, an almost illusive
hiaroscuro ; sensation, soul, and form melted together ; conveying to the mind of
he spectator the most delicious impression of harmony, spiritual and sensual.
ord Byron speaks of ' music hreatliing ' from the face of a beautiful woman :
usic breathes from the pictures of Correggio. He is the painter of beauty,
ar excellence ; he is to us what Apelles was to the ancients, the *' standard of the
miable and graceful !" * Will it be believed that all this perfection of hand
eart, and soul was achieved in ignorance of the great works of his contem-
oraries, consequently, was an altogether unaided advance upon the state of art
hat prevailed when he began his career in his own native Lombardy ? Yet so it
Iwas ; and when at last a production of Raphael's met his eye — a * St. Cecilia '
fve can imagine and sympathise with the varied feelings and emotions that it
|called forth. '' Well, I am a painter too," were his first words, after a lono-
examination. Though not> a pupil, Parmegiano (1503-1540) was evidently an
imitator of Correggio ; he is the painter of this tall picture, the ' Vision of St.
erome,' where St. John, in the foreground, is pointing to the Virgin and youthful
hrist in the clouds, while St. Jerome is asleep in the background. A o-reat
ompliment to art was paid through the medium of this work, if Waagen's sup-
osition be correct, that it was this on which Parmegiano was engaged durino* the
ssault upon Rome by the troops of the Constable Bourbon ; an event of which
he painter was so delightfully unconscious that the first news he received of it
ame in the shape of the hostile German soldiers looking to see what plunder
ight be obtained. What followed was enough to make one wish to blot all
emembrances of former misdeeds of the Goths and Vandals of the north. The
oldiers stopped to gaze on the work before them, became entranced by its beauty,
nd quitted, the place, as one that should be sacred from all tumults, even the
fvery unscrupulous and unrespecting ones of war. Unfortunately, another party
afterwards seized the painter, and exacted ransom, in consequence of which he
eft Rome in poverty, and went to Bologna^ where and at Parma he grew again
ealthy and famous — then left the real art of alchymy he possessed for the
ominal one, and died poor. Though executed at the early age of twenty-four,
his ' Vision of St. Jerome ' is esteemed, in spite of its exaggerations and other
efects, one of Parmegiano's finest productions.
Of the Paduan school and its chief, Andrea Martcgna, we have nothing ; but
f the Ferrara school, a kind of branch of the Paduan, there are three pictures,
wo by Mazzolino da Ferrara (1489-1530), and one by Ercole Grandi da Ferrara,
|149l-153l ; all religious subjects, and all interesting as showing the state of
rt in that part of Italy before Garoolo returned from Raphael's studio, and
nformed his works with much of his master's grace and grandeur.
* Handbook to the Public Galleries of Art in and near London, with Catalogues of the Pictures, &c. by Mrs.
Jameson ; a book so admirably fitted for its purpose, that we can only wish every one of our readers may have the
Jenefit of it as an instructive and delightful companion on their artistlcal visits.
250 LONDON.
By the time of the Reformation the followers of the great men who had shed
such splendour over the commencement of the century had ceased to deserve that
name, and might, in some cases at least, be rather called their caricaturists : such,
for instance, in their more important works, wei^Q the professed disciples of the
great Florentine, Vasari, the historian of painting, and Bronzino, whom we have
before mentioned. Signs of decay were everywhere visible. It was as if the
grandeur and beauty that the small, but most memorable band of men, the Da
Vincis and Raphaels, the Michael Angelos, Titians, and Correggios, had sud-
denly introduced into the world, had been too great an advance for the taste and
knowledge of men generally, who, after a brief fit of overwrought admiration and
excitement, fell back, through the natural effects of re-action, into a worse than
their former state. But the progress of the new faith infused new vigour and energy
into the old one ; and where the contest did not end in establishing the Protestant,
it undoubtedly helped to refix more firmly in its foundation the Eoman Catholic
religion. Such was the case in Italy; and the arts soon felt the impulse. Towards
the latter part of the sixteenth century there were living at Bologna two brothers
and their cousin, bent on no less a task than the establishment of a grand school of
painting of a somewhat different class than any that had gone before. To the results
of a close study of nature and of the antique they desired to add the results of an
equally attentive examination of every great master's peculiar qualities; and thus
produce, in theory at least, works of still loftier excellence. These men, having
made themselves worthy of such a position, opened a studio in the house of the
cousin, Ludovico, to prepare others, who might also carry on the good Avork.
This was the foundation of the famous eclectic school of Bologna by the Car-
racci ; one of whom, Agostino (1588-1601), drew the Cartoons in the vestibule or
passage before mentioned ; another, Ludovico (1555-1619), who first planned the
school and chiefly guided its operations, is the painter of the ' Susannah and the
Elders/ the ' Entombment of Christ,' and of the copy of Correggio's ' Ecce Homo;'
whilst the third and greatest, Annibale (1560-1609), enriches the Gallery with a
noble series of works, no less than seven in number^ among which two are indeed
gems, the ' Silenus gathering grapes ' and the ' Pan (or Silenus ?) teaching Apollo
to play on the reed ;' both are painted in distemper^ and originally, it is supposed,
decorated the same harpsichord. It is not unworthy of remark, as showing how
greatly application may develop excellence, that of the three Carracci, whilst
Agostino, who was of a light gay disposition, worked at the easel but by fits and
starts, — whilst Ludovico, whose phlegmatic temperament and lofty mind
naturally inclined him to study and work, laboured steadily in his vocation, — it
is Annibale, the often rude and impatient, but always generous and enthusiastic,
who surpassed both in the incessant character of his application and in its results.
With two delightful traits of Annibale, we must conclude our brief notice of this
noble trio to whom modern art owes so much : he is said to have kept his colours
and his money in the same box, both equally at the disposal of his scholars ; when
he died, he was buried, according to his own desire, by the side of Raphael.
Among these scholars two stand out conspicuous, Guido (1575-1642) andDomeni-
chino (1581-1641). The talents of Guido were so early and conspicuously shown
that the Carracci grew jealous, and Guercino (before mentioned) and Domenichino
were pushed forward by them in consequence. We have four pictures by Guido
THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND SOANE MUSEUM. 251
in the Gallery, one of which, the ^Andromeda,' is in the artist's best manner,
warm, harmonious and delicate ; and the same number by Domenichino, who
has been ranked among the first of painters, and whose progress upwards
was still more remarkable than his master's, Annibale Carracci. He was
called the 'ox' by his fellow students; upon which Annibale one day remarked
that the nickname was only applicable to Domenichino's patient and fruitful
industry. It was a maxim of the latter that not a single line ought to be traced
by the hand which was not already fully conceived in the mind. That all this
implied anything but the want of energy and enthusiasm Annibale had one* day
an interesting proof : he found Domenichino acting in person the scene which he
had to paint.
Among the recent acquisitions of the Gallery is one by John Van Eyck (1370-
1441), which seems to show that the discoverer or restorer of oil paintino- had leapt
at once to perfection, in the preparation of the vehicles of his colours, and kept the
knowledge thus acquired to himself, for there is nothing in modern pictures to be
compared with Van Eyck's for mingled delicacy and effect, and we fear for per-
manence. Above four centuries have passed over this little quaint piece of bril-
liancy, without a trace of their existence. The subject is unknown : it consists
of two figures, a male and a female, holding each other's hands. The picture
belongs to a very interesting period, when John Van Eyck and his brother had
raised the school of Flanders to the highest pitch of eminence among the earlier
schools of European art. They were men, as we may almost perceive in this in-
teresting picture, who added to the most exquisite technical skill, profound feel-
ing, and powerful perception and delineation of character. Before and after them
there is a melancholy waste, not in northern art itself, but in our Gallery of its
specimens. The fine old romantic school of painting might never have existed
for aught we here perceive to the contrary. When we next arrive at works of
the Flemish school, it is after a period of decline and degradation ; from which a
new artist at once, by his single strength, raised it; namely, Rubens (1577-1640),
who, by the variety and value of the stores of a mind to which Nature had been
most unusually bountiful of her richest gifts, informed it with a glowing life, an
energy of character and passion, mingled with almost unequalled harmony of
gorgeous colouring and picturesque composition, that placed both the school and
the founder of it at the very highest point of reputation, — we perceive in this
Gallery how deservedly. Rubens was equally great in history, landscape, and
portraiture : of the last we possess, as yet, no examples ; of the second we have
a ' Sunset,' and a ' Landscape,' representing Rubens' own chateau near Malines,
with the country around it, a wonderfully beautiful work; and of the first, among
six pictures of different sizes and value, the well known ' Brazen Serpent,' the
* St. Bavon,' one of the most harmonious and picturesque of compositions ; and,
above all, the glorious ' Peace and War,' painted by Rubens in this country
whilst ambassador to the Court of Charles L, to whom he presented it. Rubens
had of course numerous pupils and followers, one of them scarcely less great than
himself. Rubens' first intimation of something of this kind was owing to an in-
teresting incident whilst he was painting his grand work, ' The Descent from the
Cross :' one of the pupils pushed another against it, the part touched was wet,
and, consequently, considerable damage done. To allay probably the alarm of
252 LONDON.
his companions, another pupil, Vandj'ck, stepped forth and did his best to set all
to rights unknown to the master. When Rubens next looked at the picture, he
was more than usually pleased with a certain portion — Vandyck's. It is said by
some that Rubens' jealousy was so excited on his discovering the truth that he re-
painted the part ; others, that it increased his esteem for his scholar ; a supposition
more in accordance with the princely generosity of Rubens's character, and sup-
ported by the strongest facts, namely, that they parted friends, and remained
friends after parting, Rubens at one time even offering him his daughter in mar-
riage. The pictures in the Gallery from the hands of Vandyck (1599-1641) are
four in number, among which may be particularly mentioned the magnificent his-
torical picture of ' St. Ambrosius and the Emperor Theodosius,' and the portrait
generally esteemed without equal in the world — that of ' Gevartius,' as it is incor-
rectly called, or ^ Vander Geest,' as no doubt it should be designated. Of Jordaens
(1594-1678), the most important of Rubens's pupils next to Vandyck, the Gallery
possesses a ' Holy Family ;' and of other Flemish masters four works, two of them
by Teniers (1610-1694), whose productions have been justly likened to reflections
from a convex mirror, such is their minute truth and nature.
From the Flemish the transition is easy to the Dutch school, and a very fair
sprinkling of the works, some twenty in number, of its most eminent men, may
be found in the Gallery. Rembrandt (1606-1674), great King of Shadows, is here
nobly represented. One of the finest productions in his early careful style, the
' Woman taken in Adultery,' enriches the Gallery ; also his ^ Christ taken down
from the Cross,' his ' Adoration of the Infant Jesus by the Shepherds,' with the
^ Woman Bathing ' (or washing), a landscape, and two of his marvellous portraits.
Nothing can exceed the poetical grandeur of the style of these works, in spite of
their roughness of execution (people Avith too curious eyes should remember
Rembrandt's caution, that paint was unwholesome) ; or in spite of an infinitely
more important defect, the inherent rudeness, it may almost be called vulgarity,
of the figures. When Vandyck was once admiring a work of Rembrandt's in the
painter's presence, the latter exultingly remarked, " Yet I have never been in
Italy." '' That is very evident," was the quiet and not undeserved reply. A land-
scape by John Both (1610-1645), a ' Calm ' and a ' Storm at Sea ' by the half am-
phibious Vandervelde (1633-1707), and a landscape by Cuyj), the Claude Lor-
raine of the Low Countries, are the only other Dutch works our space will permit
us to particularise. But we have incidentally recalled a name which, in itself
almost a strain of music, opens a vista of the most charming productions that any
age or time has given to us. Our National Gallery is here again worthy of its
name : no less than ten works by Claude Lorraine (1660-1682) are in it. It were
useless here to enumerate them, by whatever name called, in order to account for
the figures put into them, and which are so bad that Claude used to say he gave
them away, and sold only the landscape : landscapes essentially they are ; and he
must be diflacult to please who would desire to see them any thing else. We can
well understand the feeling which made Sir George Beaumont, himself a land-
scape-painter of the finest taste, after he had given his pictures to the Gallery,
beg for one of them, his especial darling, back again during his lifetime, when
we know that it was a Claude (' Hagar in the Desert ') that he so desiderated.
Claude, with Nicholas Poussin (1594-1665), and Caspar Poussin (1613-1675),
THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND SOANE MUSEUM.
•253
may almost "be said to form a school of their own, though Lanzi places them in
the Roman, and other writers in the French school. France was their country
either by birth or immediate descent, but from Italy they derived their nurture.
Nicholas led the way in that kind of landscape which has grandeur for its object,
and was followed by Gaspar, the mightiest master in the style we have yet had,
and Bourdon (1616-1671), a scarcely less eminent French painter, of whom we
have but a single specimen, the ' Return of the Ark :' this is the painter, by the
way, who copied from recollection a picture of Claude's so perfectly, as to astonish
that great painter no less than it astonished the public generally. The Gallery
is rich in the works of both the Poussins, there being eight by Nicholas (or seven,
if the * Phineas and his Followers ' be, as alleged, by Romaneili), and six by
Gaspar : among these, if we must make any special mention, we may particularise
Gaspar's * Landscape, with Abraham and Isaac,' as the truly grandest, perhaps,
that ever was painted, and Nicholas' ' Plague of Ashdod ' (where the very tints
and tones seem smitten with the disease they illustrate) in one style, and the two
Bacchanalian pictures in another, as works of the very highest kind. The mecha-
nical perfection attained by some of our painters is very extraordinary ; Gaspar
could paint a landscape in a day. The four pictures by Lancret (1690-1743),
pupil and imitator of Watteau, demand but a passing mention, and complete our
collection of the works of the French school. And we may here, immediately
after the great landscape-painters above named, not unfitly find a niche for a man
who was a school almost in himself, Salvator Rosa (1615-1673), poet, musician,
actor, architect, improvisatore, and painter, of whom we have a single work,
* Mercury, and the Woodman :' why we have nothing more important, we leave
those to tell who, when two of the greatest of Salvator's productions, ' Diogenes
casting away his Cup,' and *Heraclitus sitting among the Remnants of Mortality,'
were offered to the Gallery, refused them ; the individual who had a chief voice
in their refusal afterwards purchasing them for the Grosvenor Gallery.
There remains but tw^o schools more to be noticed — the Spanish and the Eng-
lish. As to the Spanish, four pictures alone represent it; three by Murillo, the
most distinguished of Spanish colourists, which consist of a Holy Family, St. John
with the Lamb, and a Spanish Peasant Boy, the last belonging to a class with
which our countrymen have been made familiar, through the medium of engra-
vings ; whilst the fourth picture is by Murillo's master, Velasquez (1599-1660),
a portrait, and therefore giving us some opportunity of judging of the truth of the
skill attributed to him in that branch of art. When his patron, Philip IV., came
one day into his room, he saw, as he thought. Admiral Pareja, in a dark corner,
whom he had ordered to sea ; " What ! still here !'' said he ; of course, the
admiral's portrait remained silent, and the king discovered his error. But nei-
ther the portrait nor the anecdote give us any adequate idea of the mighty talent
of the greatest of Spanish painters, of whom it has been said, in " things mortal,
and touching man, Velasquez was more than mortal : he is perfect throughout,
whether painting high or low, rich or poor, young or old, human, animal, or
natural objects. His dogs are equal to Snyders ; his chargers to Rubens— they
know their rider. When Velasquez descended from heroes, his beggars and
urchins rivalled Murillo : no Teniers or Hogarth ever came up to the waggish
wassail of his drunkards. He is by far the first landscapc-i)ainter of Spain : his
254 LONDON.
scenes are full of local colour, freshness and daylight, whether verdurous court-
like avenues, or wild rocky solitudes : his historical pictures are pearls of great
price : never were knights and soldiers so painted as in his Surrender of Breda.*
Referring once more to the title ' National Gallery,' it seems natural to conclude
that one of the most important objects aimed at in its formation Avould be the
gathering together, at almost any cost, the specimens of English art, from its
earliest days down to the present time. How else, indeed, could a truly National
Gallery be formed ? It is very odd, but it does seem to be the fact, that such an
idea has never entered the minds of those who have it in their power to carry it out
to its legitimate practical conclusion. We have about 38 English pictures, it is
true ; but as to their quality, or the extent to which they illustrate English art,
it is all matter of accident. They are very liberal at the National Gallery ! they
take every thing that is offered, if it be not very bad, and by no means exclude
the works of Englishmen : but purchasing is a different matter : we believe not a
single native picture has been obtained in that way. We may then really con-
sider ourselves fortunate that our English school has any worthy representatives.
There are one of Hogarth's (1697-1764) inestimable moral series, the Marriage
a la Mode, in six pictures, and his own portrait with the dog ; two of Wilson's
(1714-1782) glorious landscapes, the Niobe and the Villa of Maecenas; two of
Gainsborough's (1727-1788), less grand, perhaps, but richer in colour and still
more freshly beautiful — these are the Market Cart and the Watering Place ; ten
pictures by Reynolds (1723-1792), including his Infant Samuel, Holy Family, and
two of his finest portraits — the Banished Lord, and Lord Heathfield, the brave
defender of Gibraltar — with a study of Angels' heads, exquisitely beautiful; one
picture by Copley (1738-1815), the Death of Lord Chatham ; four by West (1738-
1820), of which the least, ambitious is by far the best, namely, the Orestes and
Pylades; five by Lawrence (1769-1830), including the famous Kemble portrait, to
which a corresponding picture of Mrs. Siddons has lately been added by a friend;
two by Wilkie (1785-1841)— the Blind Fiddler and Village Festival— works
whose merits are as rare as their reputation is universal ; with others by Con-
stable, Hoppner, Beechey, Jackson, Beaumont, Phillips, and Hilton (died 1839) —
the last a truly noble work, representing, from the Fairy Queen, Sir Calepine
rescuing Serena — a work which, in rich, art-loving, somewhat self-glorifying
England, the painter was unable to sell, and kept therefore till the day of his
death. It was purchased a short time back by some public-spirited gentlemen,
Hilton's admirers, and presented to the nation, which will yet be proud of it.
Among the other Galleries of London, there are several which we should have
been glad to have noticed had our space permitted us to do so : and we can but
regret that it does not. Such are — the collection in Devonshire House, rich in
Italian pictures, and more particularly of the Venetian school ; Sir Robert Peel's,
of which Waagen speaks so highly as '' a series of faultless pearls of the
Flemish and Dutch schools," a monument of the artistical taste and knowledge
of their owner and collector ; the Bridgwater, formerly the Stafford Gallery, to
which a great work in four folio volumes has been specially dedicated, and which
holds the first rank among English collections, being rich in all schools — pre-
eminently so in the highest, and containing above 300 pictures ; the collection in
* ' Penny Cyclopaedia' — Velasquez.
THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND SOANE MUSEUM.
255
Stafford House, belonging to the Duke of Sutherland; Lord Ashburton's; the
Duke of Wellington s ; Mr. Hope's ; and the Marquis of Westminster's, better
known as the Grosvenor Gallery, one of the wealthiest in the country in the
works of Rembrandt, and the Dutch and Flemish painters, and containing many
and valuable works in all the other chief schools.
[The Picture Gallery, Grosvenor House.];
We conclude then with a notice of a building which has no doubt often attracted
the eye of the reader as he passed through Lincoln's Inn Fields, by the pecu-
liarity of its general appearance — by the Gothic-looking corbels attached to the
Front without any apparent object, and by the figures on the upper part of
the building, which to some may be familiar as copies of the Caryatides attached
to the Temple of Pandroseus at Athens. That is the Museum of Sir John
loane, the eminent architect, presented by him to the public, and secured for
^ver to its use by a parliamentary enactment. And one of the most munificent
;ifts ever made to a nation, was made also in the most munificent manner : Sir
[John provided an endowment for the maintenance of the Museum, as well as the
[useum itself, leaving us nothing to do but to enjoy, and be grateful."^ The
* As the regulations concerning admission are, from tiie confined character of the place, and tlie great and
jeculiar value of the objects contained in it, necessarily framed and observed with great care, we subjoin from
he Description what we may call tlie official announcement :~The Museum is « open to general visitors on
Thursdays and Fridays during the months of April, May, and June, in each year ; and likewise on Tuesdays
rom the first week in February to the last in August, for the accommodation of foreigners, persons making but a
hort stay in London, artists, and those who, from particular circumstances, may be prevented from visiting the
Vluseum in the months first specified, and to whom it may be considered proper such favour should be conceded :
)ersons desirous of obtaining admission to the Museum can apply either to a trustee, by letter to the Curator
George Bailey, Esq.), or personally at the Museum a day or two before they desire to visit it; in the latter case,
he applicant is expected to leave a card, containing the name and address of the party desiring admission, and
he number of persons proposed to be introduced, or the same can be entered in a book kept for the purpose in tne
lall, when, unless there appears to the Curator any satisfactory reason to the contrary, a card of admission for the
lext open day is forwarded by post to the given address."
256 LONDON. j
1
I
interior is probably the most extraordinary succession of little halls, little cor-
ridors, little dining, breakfast, and drawing-rooms, little studios and parlours, or,
what comes to the same thing, appears so from the multitude of objects crowded
into them, that ever awaited the eyes of a curious visitor ; and the names are
no less fantastic : Monk's Parlour — Catacombs — Sepulchral Chamber — Crypt —
Shakspere Eecess — Tivoli Recess — Monument Court — such are the appellations
of different parts of the building. As to the contents, they are at once so mul-
tifarious, and so different, that to describe them satisfactorily in any other way
than by reprinting the description sold at the Museum is all but impossible.
There are Egyptian antiquities, Greek and Eoman antiquities, modern sculp-
tures, gems, rare books and manuscripts, pictures, architectural models (an ex-
tensive collection, illustrating chiefly Sir John's own public works) ; in short, we
should hesitate before we ventured to name anything positively as not bcino-
there. Walls, cabinets, recesses, ceilings, are everywhere covered — not an inch
of spare room is to be found — the walls, indeed, doing double duty, by means of an
ingenious contrivance — moveable planes with sufficient space between for the pic-
tures; by which means a room of about 12 feet by 20 can accommodate as many
pictures as an ordinary gallery 45 feet long by 20 feet broad. The value of
the countless articles here so ingeniously arranged varies of course ; many of
them are of inestimable price. A foreigner, mentioned by Mrs. Jameson, com-
pared its labyrinthine passages and tiny recesses to a mine branching out into
many veins, where, instead of metallic ores, you find works of art ; and the remark
does no more than justice to the Soane Museum. Its formation was the work of
the chief portion of a life-time, and involved an expenditure that has been esti-
mated at upwards of 50,000/. To this general idea of the contents of the Museum
we can but add a rapid glance over some of the more interesting among the articles
that belong to our general subject, the Pictures. Among these are the portrait
of Soane, by Lawrence ; Reynolds's famous ' Snake in the Grass;' the ' Study of
a Head,' from one of Raphael's Cartoons, a relic saved from the wreck of the lost
cartoons, which remained in the possession of the family of the weaver who
originally worked them in tapestry ; copies of two other heads from the same, by
Flaxman ; another of Hogarth's moral series, — the eight paintings of the 'Rake's
Progress,' with several others of the painter's original works ; also paintings by
Canaletti, one of them esteemed his finest work, Watteau, Fuseli, Turner,
Callcot, Eastlake, Hilton. Yes, we must notice one thing beside, the truly mag-
nificent '^ Egyptian Sarcophagus,' found by Belzoni in a tomb, and which is of the
finest Oriental alabaster, transparent when a light is placed in it, and most elabo-
rately sculptured all over. It measures 9 feet 4 inches in length, 3 feet 8 inches
in breadth, and 2 feet 8 inches in depth at the highest part. It is, in all proba-
bility, the most beautiful relic of Egyptian art existing. The learned are sadly
at issue as to whom it belonged ; Sir Gardner Wilkinson considers it was the
* Cenotaph ' of the father of Rameses the Great, whose conquests are represented
on the walls of the great Temple of Ammon at Thebes.
0*
[Marylebone, 1720, From the basin in Maryiebono Park, near Regent's Park.]
CXLIL— THE METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS.
HE rapid growth of large towns has almost ceased to excite astonishment in our
lys. As to those who regarded with fear and apprehension the rate at which
idon was increasing at the close of the seventeenth century, what would they
JWsay, if they could rise from their graves, and see the bulk which the monster of
leir imaginations had attained? Still, wonderfully as London has increased in
lagnitude, its population has not yet reached the point at which, according to the
jeculations of a clever and acute man a century and a half ago, it must neces-
:ily come to a full stop. In 1682 Sir William Petty conjectured that, as Lon-
[n doubled its population in forty years, and the rest of the country in three
mdred and sixty years, the number of inhabitants in London in 1840 would be
[,718,880, and in the rest of the country 10,917,389 ; " wherefore," he remarks,
it is certain and necessary that the growth of the city must stop before the said
lar 1840 ; and will be at its utmost height in the next preceding period [of forty
jars], anno 1800, when the number of the city will be eight times its present
[mber, namely, 5,359^000 ; and when (besides the said number) there will be
166,000 to perform the tillage, pasturage, and other such works necessary to be
|ne without the said city." Then he adds : '' Now when the people of London
ill come to be so near the people of all England, then it follows that the growth
c London must stop before the said year 1840." The whole population of the
f ies and towns of England in Sir William Petty's time was comparatively insig-
VOL. VI. s
258 LONDON.
nificant, and he doubtless considered that if it became much greater than one-half
it would be unable to obtain food : at present, out of fifteen millions, nearly nine
live in the towns of considerable size.
The attempt to check the increase of new buildings in London by statutory
enactments began in 1592, when an act was passed prohibiting their erection
either in London or Westminster, or within three miles, unless they were fit for
inhabitants of the better sort ; neither were single houses to be converted into
several dwellings for '' under-sitters." James L, in his proclamations, was no less
anxious than his predecessor to repress the growth of his metropolis. He ex-
horted the Star Chamber to regulate '' the exorbitanc}^ of the new buildings
about the city, which were but a shelter for those who, when they had spent their
estates in coaches, lacqueys, and line clothes, like Frenchmen, lived miserably in
their houses, like Italians." Notwithstanding, the evil made head against their
most strenuous efforts. In 1630, we find Charles I. also issuing his proclamations
to check the further increase of London, under the fear that the inhabitants
'' would multiply to such an excessive number that they could neither be go-
verned nor fed." Another measure adopted, both by Charles and his father,
was to order all mere visitors to the capital to leave it and go back to their homes
in the country. What would our West-end tradesmen say to a proclamation of
King James in 1617, which strictly commanded all noblemen, knights, and gentle-
men, who had mansion-houses in the country, to depart within twenty days, with
their wives and families, out of the city and suburbs of London, and to return to
their several habitations in the country, there to continue and abide until the end
of the summer vacation, "to perform the duties and charge of their several places
and service ; and likewise, by house-keeping, to be a comfort unto their neigh-
bours, in order to renew and revive the laudable custom of hospitality in their
respective counties." None were to be allowed to remain, except those having
urgent business, to be signified to and approved of by the Privy Council. Again,
in 1622, in one proclamation, he commanded all noblemen and gentlemen, having
seats in the country, forthwith to go home to celebrate the feast of Christmas,
and to keep hospitality in their several counties, " which," said he, '' is now the
more needful, as this is a time of scarcity and dearth." Christmas a time of. ,
scarcity in- London ! a period at which it now literally overflows with the comfortsj|
and good things of life, which are to be obtained, too, at a cheaper rate than in
any town of considerable size in the kingdom. In a second proclamation, referring
to the former one, he enjoined the persons thus hurried off into the country to
remain there till his further pleasure should be known ; adding, that the order
should be held to include widows of distinction ; and that all such lords and gen
tlemen as had law business to bring them up to London should leave their
wives and children in the country. Another proclamation, in 1632, alludes to
their drawing from the counties their substance and money, which was '' spent
in the city on excess of apparel, provided from foreign parts, to the enriching of
other nations, and the unnecessary consumption of a great part of the treasure of
this realm, and in their vain delights and expenses, even to the wasting of their
estates." The practice, it is added, also drew great numbers of loose and idle
people to London and Westminster, which thereby were not so easily governed
as formerly ; besides that the poor-rates were increased and the price of provi-
sions enhanced. " In regard to the point last touched upon, it is but fair to
i
1
THE METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS.
259
remember," says the 'Pictorial History of England/ " that, from the difficulties
of conveyance between one part of the country and another, any extraordinary
accumulation of people upon one spot was in those days reasonably regarded
with more alarm, for the pressure it would occasion upon the local provision
market, than it would be now, when the whole kingdom is in a manner but one
market." After all, therefore, these enactments and proclamations derive their
appearance of absurdity from London not having experienced for so long a period
the evils of scarcity, and from the increasing improbability, under all ordinary
circumstances, of its afjain suffering so severe an affliction. Its two millions of
inhabitants are better and more cheapl}^ supplied than the half of this number
forty years ago, and with the present facilities of distributing the necessaries of
life, it would continue to be as well supplied though another million were added
to the population. It would, in fact, be difficult to say where the check to popu-
lation, from insufficient supplies of food and other necessaries, would come into
operation, provided that the varied industry of the metropolis continued
prosperous.
Besides the official authority adduced as proving that the increase of London
was regarded as a veritable bugbear, various writers might be quoted to the
same effect. Graunt, in his work on the * Bills of Mortality,' published in 1662,
speaks of London as "perhaps a head too big for the body, and possibly too
strong ;" and he complains that many parishes had grown '' madly disproportion-
able." Rapin, who wrote his ' History of England' above a quarter of a century
later, regrets that the enactments and proclamations against the increase of Lon-
don had not been attended to, and repeats the old story of the capital being a
monstrous head to a body of moderate size.
The City of London Within the Walls contains no more than three hundred
and seventy statute acres, or about the one hundred and fortieth part of the space
covered by the metropolis ; but it is the parent of a mass of united and contiguous
dependencies, stretching from Holioway and Kentish Town to Camberwell and
Brixton, and from Hammersmith to Greenwich and Blackwall. Graunt complained
in 1662 that *' the walled city is but a fifth of the whole pile." As before stated, in
extent it is the one hundred and fortieth part of the whole metropolitan area, and
in population one thirty-sixth of the whole mass. We may soon make the circuit
of Old London. From its eastern ascent at Tower Hill to its western descent at
Ludgate Hill the distance is but a mile and a quarter. In tracing the limits of
the ancient city we proceed from the Tower, behind the Minories, to Aldgate ;
behind Hounds-ditch (the city moat) to Bishops-gate; and along London Wall
to Cripple-gate, the greatest distance from the Thames ; thence to Alders-gate,
New-gate, Lud-gate, and Blackfriars' Bridge. When it became no longer neces-
sary to crowd within the walls for the sake of protection, the population spread
itself in the limits known as London Without the Walls, a space still smaller than
that part of the city within the walls, and comprising only two hundred and thirty
acres. The authority of the city over this portion of the metropolis was acquired
by successive grants of jurisdiction. The greater portion of the City Without
the Walls extends from the bottom of Ludgate Hill and Newgate to Temple Bar
and Holborn Bars, opposite the end of Gray's Inn Lane'; and on the north it
runs with tolerable regularity parallel to the line of the city wall, occupying the
s 2
260 LONDON.
site of the city moat, and of the wall itself, until it reaches the Liberty of the
Tower. Mr. Kickman estimated the population of the City Within the Walls,
at the beginning of the last century, at not much less than 140,000 : and of the
City Without the Walls at 69,000 : the former had in 184i a population of 54,626
and the latter of 70,382. The Borough of Southwark, which doubtless owes its
origin to the ferry, or possibly bridge, which in the Anglo-Roman period con-
nected London with the military road to Dover, comprises just ten statute acres
less than the City of London Within and Without the Walls. These were the
ancient limits to which the population of the metropolis was at one time confined.
The first movement of the population beyond the above boundaries was in a
western direction, between Temple Bar and Westminster, where a church, dedi-
cated to St. Peter, had been erected, in the early part of the seventh century, by
Sebert, King of the East Saxons. Edward the Confessor refounded the church,
and built a palace on the site of the present House of Lords, and William Rufus
added to it Westminster Hall, The Exchequer of Receipt (the ancient Crown
Revenue Ofl[ice) was removed from Winchester to Westminster, probably in the
reign of Stephen. " From the time of Edward I.," says Mr. Rickman, " West-
minster, from Parliament being usually summoned to meet there, may be deemed
the seat of government also." Its situation was on an island, called Thorney
Island, about one mile and a half long, formed by an arm of the Thames, called
Long Ditch, and which afforded solid ground in the neighbourhood of the abbey.
The court of the Tudors was removed from the New Palace, adjoining W^est-
minster Hall, to Whitehall, and the Strand in consequence became a favourite
site for the residences of the nobility.
According to a map published early in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, about
1560, Westminster was then united by an unbroken line of buildings, extending
from the Palace at Whitehall by Charing Cross and along the Strand ; those on
the south side consisting chiefly of the mansions of the nobility, with gardens
reaching down to the river ; and those on the north side, between Drury Lane
and St. Martin's Lane, being also mansions, having gardens behind them ; then a
park or garden, apparently part of the former Convent (or Abbey) Garden, which
has given name to the neighbourhood ; then open fields, extending to Holborn
and to the hamlet or village of St. Giles's. In the neighbourhood of Westminster
Abbey or Hall, which formed the nucleus of the city, the buildings were thick,
and formed a town of several streets. About Charing Cross there were houses,
extending along what is now called Cockspur Street to the end of Pall Mall; but
the Haymarket was a country road, separated from the fields by a hedge on each
side. The Mews at Charing Cross existed, and their eastern wall, with that of
St. Martin's Churchyard, and of the park or garden noticed as extending at the
back of the houses on the north side of the Strand, lined St. Martin's Lane on
each side for some distance ; but the greater part of that lane was bounded by
hedges, and had fields on each side, which were used for feeding cattle or drying
clothes. In the neighbourhood of the church of St. Clement Danes, and at the
Strand end of Drury Lane, about Clement's Inn, the houses were more thickly
grouped, but the greater part of Drury Lane was skirted by fields, occupying, on
the one hand, the space now occupied by Lincoln's Inn Fields and the neighbour-
hood, and on the other, the site of the present Covent Garden Market, Long
THE METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS. 261
Acre^ and Castle Street. Speed's plan, published in 1610, seventy years later,
gives this part of the metropolis but little more extension than the plan of 1560.
Howel, in his « Londinopolis,' published in 1657, observes that the union of the
two crowns of England and Scotland, by the accession of James in 1603, conduced
not a little to unite also the two cities of London and Westminster ; '' for," says he,
"the Scots, greatly multiplying here, nestled themselves about the court, so that
the Strand, from the mud walls and thatched cottages, acquired that perfection
of buildings it now possesses." Graunt, in his work on the 'Bills of Mortality,'
says, '' The general observation is that the city of London gradually removes
westward; and did not the Eoyal Exchange and London Bridge stay the trade, it
would remove much faster, for Leadenhall Street, Bishopsgate, and part of Fen-
church Street have lost their ancient trade ; Gracechurch Street indeed keeping
itself yet entire, by reason of its conjunction with and relation to London Bridge.
Again, Canning Street [Cannon Street] and Watling Street have lost the trade
of woollen drapery to Paul's Churchyard, Ludgatc Hill and Fleet Street; the
mercery is gone from out of Lombard Street and Cheapside into Paternoster Row
and Fleet Street. The reasons whereof are, that the King's court (in old time
frequently kept in the city) is now always at Westminster ; secondly, the use of
coaches, whereunto the narrow streets of the old city are unfit, hath caused the
building of those broader streets in Covent Garden." Howell compares London
to a Jesuit's hat, the brims of w^hich are larger than the block, as the suburbs of
London had become larger than the body of the city, which he says "made Count
Gondomar, the Spanish Ambassador, to say, as the Queen of Spain was convers-
ing with him^ on his return from England, of the city of London, * Madam, I
eheve there will be no city left shortly, for all will run out of the gates to the
uburbs.' " But at the same time, as Graunt shows, the number of buildings in
he city itself was increasing, and buildings were erected on the site of great
ouses belonging to noblemen who had removed westward, and he notices that,
' AUhallows on the Wall is increased by the conversion of the Matquis of Win-
hester's house, lately the Spanish Ambassador's, into a new street ; the like of
jAlderman Freeman's, and La Motto's, near the Exchange ; the like of the Earl
f Arundel's in Lothbury ; the like of the Bishop of London's Palace ; the Dean
f [St.] Paul's ; and the Lord Rivers's house, now in hand ; as also of the Duke's
lace, and others heretofore.'' This increase of building on the sites of the great
ouses and the gardens attached to them, rendered the city less pleasant. But
oth within and without the city the stream of population was flowing thicker and
aster. Graunt remarks that " When Ludgate was the only western gate of the
ity, little building was westward thereof, but when Holborn began to increase
^Jewgate was made.* Now both these gates are not sufficient for the communica-
ion between the walled city and its enlarged western suburbs, as daily appears
|)y the intolerable stops and embarrassments of coaches near both these gates,
jispecially Ludgate." And in another place he observes, that " the passage of
udgate is a throat too strait for the body." Sir William Petty, in 1682, points
'iut some of the causes which in his opinion had contributed to swell the popula-
* Newgate was called New, after being rebuilt in the reign of Henry V., before whicli time it was called
Chamberlain's Gate. " This gate," says Mr. Rickman, " cannot but have been one of the ancient gates of the
!ity, the Roman Watling Street passing along Newgate Street, Holborn, and Oxford Street to Tyburn, where it
imed off to St. Albans."
262 LONDON.
tion of London between 1640 and 1680. From 1G42 to 1650, '^men arrived out
of the country to London to shelter themselves from the outrages of the civil wars.
From 1650 to 1660 the royal party came to London for their more private and
inexpensive living. From 1660 to 1670 the King's friends and party came to
receive his favours after his happy Restoration. From 1670 to 1680 the frequency
of plots and parliaments might bring extraordinary numbers to the city." Be
this as it may, there is no doubt there was a great increase of the population after
the Kestoration.
Some years after the accession of James I., St. Giles's-in-the-Fields was still
spoken o£ in an act for paving it, as a town separate from the capital ; but it had
become united to it by a continuous range of buildings before the Civil War.
Anderson, in his ' History of Commerce,' identifies, from their names, the period
when most of the streets about Covent Garden were erected. " The very names
of the older streets about Covent Garden are taken from the royal family at this
time (some, indeed, in the reign of King Charles II., as Catherine Street, Duke
Street, York Street, &c.), such as James Street, King Street, Charles Street,
Henrietta Street, &c., all laid out by the great architect, Inigo Jones, as was also
the fine piazza there. Bloomsbury and the streets at the Seven Dials were built
up somewhat later, as also Leicester Fields, namely, since the restoration of King
Charles IL, as were also almost all St. James's and St. Anne's parishes, and a
great part of St. Martin's and St. Giles's." Anderson, who wrote about the
middle of the last century, says : '' I have met with several old persons in my
younger days who remembered when there was but one single house (a cake-
house) between the Mews Gate at Charing Cross and St. James's Palace Gate,
where now stand the stately piles of St. James's Square, Pall Mall, and other fine
streets." To return, however, to the increase of the metropolis in this direction
about the close of Charles II. 's reign. By this time the limits of the city of
Westminster, east of St. Martin's Lane, had been covered with streets ; and west-
ward from St. Martin's Lane the buildings had extended to the irregular line
formed by Wardour Street, Pulteney Street, Warwick Street, and Piccadilly,
nearly to the Green Park, at that time still united to St. James's Park. Leicester
Fields, now Leicester Square, Soho Square, then frequently called King Square,
had been laid out and built. Buildings had also extended westward along the
south side of St. James's Park, and southward along Millbank to the Horse Ferry
opposite Lambeth Palace. Before 1707. according to a map of that date. Golden
Square, which, as well as Leicester Square, continued to be inhabited by the
aristocracy up to the middle of last century, had been built ; and also, between
1707 and 1720, Old Bond Street and New Bond Street ; and about the latter year
Albemarle Street, Dover Street, and the adjacent streets, had been laid out ; also
Hanover Square, so called in honour of George I. When Strype published his
edition of Stow's ' London ' in 1720, some of the houses in Hanover Square were
finished, and some erecting, " one whereof," he tells us, " is taken by my Lord
Cowper ;" and he adds, '' it is reported that the common place of execution of
malefactors at Tyburn will be appointed elsewhere, as somewhere near Kingsland."
Oxford Street, previously called Oxford Road, was the old " Tyburn Road."
Towards the Piccadilly end of Old Bond Street the houses had extended, before
1720, to about Clarges and Half-Moon streets, and along Piccadilly to Hyde Park
m
THE METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS. 263
Corner. The whole south side of Oxford Street, and the north side from Vere
Street to Oxford Street, were built about 1729, and a number of streets north of
ithis Ime about the same time. By 1738 nearly the whole space between Piccadilly
jitand Oxford Street was covered with buildings as far as Tyburn Lane, now Park
Lane, except in the south-western corner about Berkeley Square and Mayfair,
which were not fully covered until 1760, in which year Berkeley Square was laid
out.
Turning to the north-western portion of the metropolis, we have the parishes
of Paddington and St. Mary-le-bone. In introducing his account of the latter
arish, Malcolm quotes the following paragraph from the ' Evening Post ' of
March 16, 1715 : — "On Wednesday last four gentlemen were robbed and stripped
in the fields between London and Mary-le-bon." In 1707, the maps of London
show that there were not any streets west of Tottenham Court Road, and a plan of
1742 shows the church of St. Mary-le-bone detached from London. In 1707 rows of
houses, with their backs to the fields, extended from St. Giles's to Oxford Market ;
and Tottenham Court Hoad had only one cluster on the west side. Newman Street
and Berners Street were built about 1750; and Upper Plarley Street and Port-
land Place some twenty years later. The village of Tyburn was in the parish of
Mary-le-bone ; and Tyburn-tree, as the gallows was called, was situated at the
end of Park Lane. The village became decayed in the fourteenth century, and
the church was robbed of its images and ornaments. In 1400 the parishioners
built a new church where they for some time had a chapel ; and the edifice being
dedicated to the Virgin, received the additional name of " bourn," from the neigh-
bouring stream. This rivulet supplied the citizens with water, nine conduits
having been erected for the purpose about 1238. At the east end of the bridge
which crossed the Ty-bourn at the end of Oxford Street stood the Lord Mayor's
banqueting-house; and it was the custom for his Lordship, with the Aldermen,
on horseback, accompanied by their ladies in waggons, to ride to this spot occa-
sionally to view the conduits, after which they were entertained at the banqueting-
house. In the first volume (p. 235), we have given from Stow an account of hare-
hunting and fox-hunting which took place on the occasion of one of these visits.
After the city was supplied with water from the New River the conduits at
Tyburn were neglected; and in 1737 the banqueting-house was pulled down.
From about the middle of the twelfth century Tyburn was the place of execution
for malefactors, and here Earl Ferrars was executed in 1760. A sense of the
impropriety of dragging a criminal a distance of two miles through the streets,
and, it must also be confessed, a desire to improve the neighbourhood of Oxford
Street, induced the authorities to transfer the execution of capital sentences to the
Old Bailey, where the first execution took place in 1783. There was a royal park
in the parish of Mary-le-bone ; and it is recorded that, in 1760, " the ambassador
from the Emperor of Russia, and other Muscovites, rode through the city of Lon-
don to Marybone Park, and there hunted at their pleasure." In the same parish,
on the site of Manchester Square, were the once-famous Mary-le-bone Gardens.
This is the place probably alluded to by Lady Mary Wortley Montague in the
line —
" Some dukes at Marybone bowl time away."
The Duke of Buckingham w^as the person meant. Pennant speaks of the Duke's
264 LONDON.
constant visits to the noted gaming-house at Marybone, the resort of infamous
sharpers. '' His grace/' he says, " always gave them a dinner at the conclusionH|ai
of the season, and his parting toast was, ' May as many of us as remain unhanged|
next spring meet here again.' " Prior to 1737 the proprietor had kept the Gardens
open gratuitously ; after which period he was accustomed to charge a shilling for the
admission of each person, who received a ticket which entitled him to refreshment
to the full amount of the entrance-money. Here Charles Dibdin and Bannister |
made their debut. The amusements consisted of vocal and instrumental music,
frequently terminating with a display of fire-works, and at one period a repre-^
sentation of Mount Etna. As the population of the neighbourhood increased, the
fear of accidents led the magistrates to suppress these amusements, and the
Gardens ceased to exist as a place of recreation about 1773.
The increase of Marylebone began between 1716 and 1720 by the erection of
Cavendish Square, at first called Oxford Square. Maitland, in his ' History of
London,' published in 1 739, states the number of houses in the parish to be 577,
and the number of persons who kept coaches 35. In 1811 the number of houseg
was 8076; 11,608 in 1831 ; and 14,169 in 1841. The adjoining parish of Pad-
dington is now rapidly being covered with buildings. Here are the station of the
Great Western Hailway, and the basin and wharfs of the Paddington Canal. The
number of houses in Paddington in 1811 was 879, and 3479 in 1841. The parish
of St. Pancras, east of Marylebone, contains the hamlets of Somers Town, Kentish
Town, Camden Town, and Pentonville, now nearly united in one contiguous mass
of buildings. It stretches from the south-end of Gray's Inn Lane nearly to the
south-end of Tottenham Court Road, and northward to Highgate. Its rustic
ancient parish church is strikingly disproportioned to its population, which
amounted, in 1841, to 129,763 persons : the number of houses in 1811 was 5826,
and 14,766 in 1841. St. Pancras New Church, erected in 1822, at a cost of
75,O0OZ., is one of the modern ecclesiastical edifices in the metropolis which would
appear to indicate that England has had no church-architecture of its own. The
streets near Percy Chapel, Tottenham Court Road, were built about 1765;
Gower Street about 1784; Fitzroy Square was commenced in 1793; Somers
Town v/as begun about 1786; and in 1792 was approached by a pleasant path,
through a white turnstile, where Judd Place now stands ; and Camden Town
was commenced in 1791.
Pursuing our course eastward from Tottenham Court Road, we come to the
parish of St. George's, Bloomsbury, originally a hamlet or village, called Loms-
bury. Rather more than a century ago Great Russell Street was a fashionable
part of the town, inhabited by the aristocracy; " especially," says Strype, '' the
north-side, as having gardens behind the houses, and the prospect of the pleasant
fields up to Highgate and Hampstead, insomuch that this place by physicians is
esteemed the most healthful of any in London." This street, he adds, " saluteth
Southampton House, Montague House (now the British Museum), and Thanet
House.'' At the east-end of Great Russell Street was Bloomsbury^ formerly
Southampton Square, the whole of the north side of which was occupied by
Bedford House, a magnificent mansion, built by Inigo Jones, and taken down
about the commencement of the present century. Southampton Row, Bedford
Row, and Montague Street, were built on the site of the gardens of Bedford
THE METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS.
265
Ijffouse ; and on some fields to the north of them^ called the Long Fields, Russell
[Square ; Tavistock Square, north of Russell Square, was begun at the commence-
Iment of the present century. Queen Square, says a writer in 1734, was open on
the north side " for the sake of the beautiful landscape which is formed by the
hills of Highgate and Hampstead, together with the adjacent fields." The same
writer remarks that '' Ormond Street is another place of pleasure, and that side
jof it next to the fields is, beyond question, one of the most charming situations
about town." The appearance of the houses in Ormond Street evidently marks
[a distinct period in the progress of buildings in this direction. The site of Guild-
ford Street was formerly a path, which led from the Earl of Rosslyn's house, at
the south-east corner of Russell Square, and the gardens of Ormond Street,
round the front of the Foundling Hospital to Gray's Inn Lane, and was, says
Malcolm, " generally bounded by stagnant water twelve feet lower than the
jsquare."
One of the most interesting circumstances connected with the growth of the
Imetropolis in one direction has reference to a conquest of industry over natural
bbstacies, which it is always gratifying to notice. The boundaries of the Fen,
pr Great Moor, appear to have been the City Wall on the south, and on the
lorth the high grounds near Islington. Malcolm supposes that part of the site
bf the City within the walls was recovered from it ; and he suggests that pro-
jbably it extended westward to Smithfield, for that place is spoken of as a marsh in
jm ancient history of the Priory of St. Bartholomew ; but it is supposed not to have
extended eastward much beyond Bishopsgate Street. Fitz- Stephen alludes to the
[^oung men of the City playing upon the ice " when the Great Fen or Moor which
Ivatereth the walls of the City on the north side is frozen." The whole tract was
et at four marks a-year in the reign of Edward II. In 1415 Stow says the Lord
Mayor *^ caused the wall of the City to be broken toward the said Moor, and
built the postern called Moorgate, for the ease of the citizens to walk that way
tpon causeys towards Iseldon (Islington) and Hoxton." Rubbish brought from
he City through the nearest gates and posterns by degrees elevated the surface,
lit all events in the parts next the City. One of the hills on which a windmill
^as first erected is said, to have arisen from the deposit of bones brought from
Bt. Paul's in 1549. Stow says, '' In the year 1498, all the gardens which had
I on tinned time out of mind without Moorgate, to wit, about and beyond the
iOrdship of Finsbury, were destroyed; and of them was made a plain field for
lirchers to shoot. From this period, until the reign of Charles II., Finsbury
Fields, as they were called, were reserved as the grand arena for displaying the
[kill of the London archers. Malcolm's work on ' London' contains a curious
print taken from a drawing copied above thirty years ago by Sir Henry Ellis,
Irom an old print in the Bodleian Library, which Avas inserted in a work on
Irchery. The fields appear to have been divided into about thirty sections, in
Jach of which there were butts set up for the archers. In the old print alluded
(o there are names or devices against each of the butts, as ' Hearty Goodwill,*
Hodget's Hart Holydaye,' ' Mercer's Maid,' ' Beehive,' ' Cornish Chough,'
Parkes his Pleasure,' &c. &c. In 1512, Roger Archley, Mayor, made attempts
|o drain the fen ; and, in 1527, another Mayor exerted himself to effect the same
Object, by conveying the waters over the CSty moat, into the channel of the Wal-
266 LONDON.
brook, and so into the Thames ; " and by these degrees," says Stow, *' was this
Fen or Moor at length made main and hard ground, which before being over-
grown with flags, sedges, and rushes, served to no use ; since the which time also
the further grounds beyond Fensbury Court have been so over-heightened with
laystalls of dung, that now three windmills are thereon set; the ditches be filled
up, and the bridges overwhelmed." The population crept along slowly in this
direction. The Manor of Finsbury was given to a prebend of St. Paul's in
1104; and, in 1215, it was granted to the Mayor and Citizens of London at a
yearly rent of 205., but no term was specified. By a survey of the Manor, in
1582, it appears that at that time it consisted chiefly of gardens^ orchards, tenter-
grounds, and fields. The Manor House stood near Chiswell Street. Only the
west side of Finsbury Square, and the street between Moorfields and the City
Road, were begun in 1778 ; and it was not until 1789 the north side was let upon
building leases. About the commencement of the present century Malcolm
vaunts of Finsbury Square as '' a modern concentration of City opulence, and I
quite equal to the West End of the town in the splendour of the houses and the
furniture." In the last century that part of Moorfields which fronted Bethlehem
Hospital (since removed) was so much frequented by fashionable citizens as to
obtain the appellation of the City Mall. The space Avas divided by gravel walks,
into four quadrangles, and was planted with elm-trees.
Stow quotes Hall on a subject which has some reference to our present subject,
as showing the limits of the metropolis. Alluding to the 5th or 6th of Henry
Vni. Hall says : *' Before this time the inhabitants of the towns about London,
as Iseldon, Hoxton, Shoreditch, and others, had so enclosed the common fields
with hedges and ditches, that neither the young men of the city might shoot,
nor the ancient persons walk for their pleasures, in those fields, but that either
their bows and arrows were taken away or broken, or the honest persons arrested
or indicted ; saying that ' no Londoner ought to go out of the city, but in the
highways.' This saying so grieved the Londoners, that suddenly this year a great
number of the city assembled themselves in a morning, and a turner, in a fooUs
coat, came crying through the city ' Shovels and spades ! shovels and spades!'
so many of the people followed that it was a wonder to behold ; and within a short
space all the hedges about the city were cast down, and the ditches filled up, such
was the diligence of these workmen.'' The King's council connived at the matter,
and so the fields remained open ; but Stow complains that in his time the case
had much altered for the worse, "by means," he says, ''of inclosure for gardens,
wherein are built many fair summer-houses; and, as in other places of the
suburbs, some of them like Midsummer pageants, with towers, turrets, and chim-
ney-pots, not so much for use or profit as for show and pleasure, betraying the
vanity of men's minds much," and as he feelingly laments, " unlike to the dispo-
sition of the ancient citizens, who delighted in the building of hospitals and alms-
houses for the poor, and therein both employed their wits and spent their wealths
in preferment of the common commodity of this our city."
Turning to some modern instances of rapid growth in the metropolitan suburbs,
we find examples on every side of London. Islington, including the hamlet of
HoUoway, is one of them. In 1811 the parish contained 2399 houses, which had
increased to 5797 in 1831, and in 184Ho 8508. The number of houses in Hack-
I
THE METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS.
267
ley, and its dependent liamlets, increased from 2699 in 1811 to 6476 in 1841 •
Bethnal Green from 5715 to 11,782; Stepney, including its hamlets, has more
han doubled, as, for example. Mile End Old Town from 2598 to 7705. Crossino-
he river to the Kent and Surrey side of the metropolis we have, in the parish of
[iambeth, an increase in the thirty years of from 7201 houses to 17,791 ; in New-
ngton the increase has been from 4574 houses to 9370; in Camberwell from 1849
,0 4570 ; and taking the hundred of Brixton, which includes nearly all the metro-
)olitan suburbs on the south, and does not comprise the borough of Southwark,
ve find that in 1811 the number of houses was 24,050, and in 1841 there were
)0,550. Every year it is necessary to provide additional house-room for above
wenty thousand persons, and London thus increases its size by the yearly addition
fa town of considerable size. There are at all times about 4000 houses in the
I'ourse of erection, and in 1841 the number of uninhabited houses was between
ix and seven thousand less than in 1831, when there were 16,408 unoccupied,
,nd in 1841 only 9731. A recent return, prepared by direction of the Commis-
ioners of Police, shows that, besides the building of so many houses, there have
een erected, since 1830, in the various divisions in which the force acts, 604
ihurches, chapels, schools, and other public buildings. The information is not
ery specific, but it is not without value.
Gradually, therefore, has London overspread the surface over which it now ex-
ends. " This ancient city/' said Maitland, about a century ago, " has engulphed
ne city, one borough and forty-three villages, namely, the city of Westminster,
he borough of Southwark, and the villages of Mora, Finsbury, Wenlaxbarn,
lerkenwell, Islington, Hoxton, Shoreditch, Homerton, Norton Folgate, the
pital, Whitechapel, Mile End New Town, Mile End Old Town, Stepney, Pop-
r, Limehouse, Ratcliff, Shadwell, Wapping, Wapping Stepney, East Smith-
eld, the Hermitage, St. Catherine's, the Minories, St. Clement Danes, the
trand. Charing, St. James's, Knightsbridge, Soho, St. Giles's-in-the-Fields,
loomsbury, Portpool, Saffron Hill, Holborn, Vauxhall, Lambeth, Lambeth
arsh, Kensington, Newington Butts, Bermondsey, the Grange, Horsleydown,
,nd Kotherhithe." Additions might be made to this list, but the names of other
laces " engulphed " will occur to most readers.
The time at length arrived when these numerous portions of the metropolis,
nee separated from each other, but in time united in one mighty mass, were to
e associated as several distinct members, with independent life and power, but
injoying still a common organization. Up to the year 1832, the City of London,
he Borough of Southwark, and the City of Westminster, had alone a distinct
olitical existence, and enjoyed the privilege of electing representatives in Parlia-
ent. The City of London has exercised this right for six centuries, and for
bout five centuries it has always returned four members. Before 1832 the
embers were chosen by the freemen (being liverymen), and a poll, if demanded,
ight continue open seven days. Southwark has sent two members to Parliament
ince 1295 ; and up to 1832 the right of voting was in householders paying scot
nd lot. The electoral privilege has been enjoyed for a much shorter time by
Westminster, the first return being made in the first year of Edward VL; but
that is now nearly three centuries ago. The right of voting, up to the period
when great alterations were made in the representative system, was exercised by
268 LONDON.
all voters paying scot and lot. The Westminster elections will be for ever famoi
in the annals of electioneering ; and we cannot well omit a brief allusion to thes
peculiar features of a bygone da3^
As Westminster formerly stood alone as a great popular constituency, it
elections were watched with peculiar interest, as indicative of the opinions of th
people generally on the topics of the time. Westminster also being the seat c\
the court and of the government, a contested election was usually a more direcj
struggle between the governors and the governed, between the opinions or pre'
judices of the people and the policy of the government. The Westminster electoij
conceived that on them more peculiarly devolved the duty of placing in Parliamenl
the " Man of the People," for such was the title given to many of their favouritd
candidates. Fox, Sheridan, Burdett, and Romilly were at different times electecj
as their representatives. Two great contests for Westminster are more particul
larly distinguished for the vigour with which they were maintained. The firsi!
was in 1741, when Lord Trentham, the court candidate, who was at the head oii
the poll, obtained 481 1 votes. The " squibs " which flew about during the struggle'
are to be found in a collected form, and are interesting as illustrating, though in'
an exaggerated form^ the popular spirit and prejudices. One of the most con-
stant points of attack by the party opposed to Lord Trentham was his lordship's
patronage of the Opera — that is, he encouraged foreigners. The election of 1784
is still more memorable. Fox was the " Man of the People " on this occasion,
and the candidates supported by the government were Sir Samuel Hood and Sir
Cecil Wray. Mr. Pitt says, in a letter to Mr. Wilberforce, of the 8th of April:
" Westminster goes on well, in spite of the Duchess of Devonshire and the other
women of the people; but when the poll will close is uncertain." Horace Wal-
pole, whose delicate health at this time confined him almost entirely to his house,
went in a sedan-chair to give his vote for Mr. Fox. " Apropos of election,"
writes Hannah More to her sister, " I had like to have got into a fine scrape the
other night. I was going to pass the evening at Mrs. Cole's, in Lincoln's Inn
Fields. I went in a chair ; they carried me through Covent Garden : a number
of people, as I went along, desired the men not to go through the Garden, as there
were a hundred armed men, who, suspecting every chairman belonged to Brookes's,
would fall upon us. In spite of my entreaties the men would have persisted,
but a stranger, out of humanity, made them set me down ; and the shrieks of the
wounded — for there was a terrible battle — intimidated the chairmen, who at last
were prevailed upon to carry me another way. A vast number of people followed
me, crying out, ' It is Mrs. Fox : none but Mr. Fox's wife would dare to come into
Covent Garden in a chair : she is going to canvass in the dark !' Though not a
little frightened, I laughed heartily at this ; but shall stir no more in a chair for
some time." *
Every paragraph which appeared in the daily newspapers relating to the
election, and every hand-bill and advertisement issued during its progress, were
collected and published in a thick quarto volume soon after it closed, and now
forms a picture of manners not a little curious. The beautiful Duchess of Devon-
shire and many other ladies of rank and distinction were, as every one knows, <
active canvassers for Mr. Fox, and from a house in Henrietta Street '' the bevy
'" Note in Walpole's Letters.
THE METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS. 2G9
Devonshire beauties " were accustomed to watch the humours of the election
aring the polling. We read also in one of the daily papers that " The Duchess
Devonshire attended the hustings yesterday in an elegant equipao-e. Her
race wore a favour in her hat and another on her breast inscribed with ' Fox.'
le servants and horses were also decorated with these testimonies of approba-
m. Another carriage of the house of Cavendish made a like display in compli-
ent to Mr. Fox." The manner in which others of the Whig aristocracy
inced their personal interest in the proceedings would now be deemed ' strange/
id indeed the improved machinery of the representative system does not afford
opportunity for the ^humours' which once characterized Covent Garden.
t the case was then very different, as the election of which we are now
making lasted nearly seven weeks, from the 1st of April to the 17th of May,
lereas the polling is now begun and finished in eight hours. The choice of the
ctors fell upon Sir Samuel Hood, who obtained 6694 votes, and Mr. Fox, who
d 6243, and a majority of 236 over Sir Cecil Wray. The chairing of Mr. Fox and
; triumphant procession which accompanied him is described as " a spectacle
lliant beyond imagination." The state carriages of the Duchesses of Devon -
ire and Portland, drawn by six horses, superbly caparisoned, with six running
)tmen attendant on each, formed a part of it ; and the procession was closed by
ntlemen's servants. After leaving Covent Garden it moved down Parliament
eet and into Great George Street, where it turned round and again marched to
™aring Cross, on its way to Pall Mall and Piccadilly. The court-yard of Carlton
louse, the residence of the Prince of Wales, then in the flower of his age, and
e joying the applauses of the popular party, was thrown open for its passage.
I riving at Piccadilly, the great gates of Devonshire House were opened, as
a Carlton House, and the procession passed into the court-yard, Avhere the
vious banners were placed in front. The Prince of Wales, the Duke and
Iichess of Devonshire, and her sister Lady Duncanncn, with other illustrious
biuties, whose influence had not a little contributed to the victory, Avere
hie assembled to greet their favourite candidate. Mr. Fox addressed his
i;nds from the steps of Devonshire House. Every man passed through Carl-
House and Devonshire House uncovered in honour of their possessors,
le procession next moved on to Berkeley Square, where it was again met by
tl Prince, who was with the Duchesses of Devonshire and Portland, and other
nole persons, '' to salute," as the accounts say, "' the triumphant sons of free-
4a." The Prince of Wales had been at a review at Ascot in the morning, at
mch the King, who regarded Mr. Fox with anything but a friendly eye, was
p sent. On his return to town his Eoyal Highness rode several times in his
uiform along Pall Mall and St. James's Street, and was received with " shouts
oiriumph." After the procession was over, the Prince was again the object of
)ular applause, on going in his carriage to dinner at Devonshire House Avith
Fox favour and a laurel in his hat. '' No description,", it is said, '' can equal
acclamations he received." On the following day his Royal Highness gave
plendid dejeuner, at Carlton House, in honour of Mr. Fox's re-election, at
A^'ch above 600 persons of fashion and distinction were present, most of Avhom
\le Mr. Fox's colours of buff and blue. The same evening the beautiful Mrs.
we gave a select ball and supper to celebrate Mr. Fox's return. The world
f
270 LONDON.
of fashion had never before been so political, and never did so many brilliar
auspices shine upon Westminster as those which, just '' sixty years ago/' marke
the success of the " Man of the People." The French Revolution destroye
this union of gaiety and politics, and the stern times of political economy, wit
other circumstances which it is needless to mention, have prevented the;
mingling together in the same light spirit. At Mrs. Crewe's ball, Mr. MorrL
afterwards Captain Morris, gave as a toast, '' Buff and Blue, and Mrs. Crewe,
which the lady acknowledged by " Buff and Blue, and all of you." Thei
was at this period an annoying device for prolonging a contest long after th
poll was declared, which was effected by demanding a scrutiny. This was th
case on the re-election of Mr. Fox, and he entered the House as Member fo
Dingwall. The scrutiny went on at about the same rate as the subsequent trir
of Hastings. In about two years the votes of as many parishes had been inve.'
tigated. On the chairing of Sheridan and Sir Samuel Hood, in 1806, the ^xc
cession also passed through the court-yard of Devonshire House, and the Duk
of Devonshire congratulated the newly-made members on their election.
Instead of three constituent bodies in the metropolis we have now seven, th
City, Southwark, Westminster, with the new boroughs of Marylebone, Finsburj
the Tower Hamlets, and Lambeth, forming, as it were, a confederation of fre
towns. It is remarkable that in one of the best maps of the metropolis, just no\
published, the limits of these boroughs have not been defined; yet there is some
thing interesting in the consideration of the interests which predominate in eacl
and the contrasts which they exhibit with one another ; and the line which sepa
rates them is surely worthy of attention. As to comparative wealth, the amoun
of assessed taxes paid in 1831 for each one hundred persons was 168/. in the Cit}
150/. in Westminster, 120/. in Marylebone, 89/. in Finsbury, 59/. in Lambeth, ani
31/. in the Tower Hamlets; the average being 89/.^ which was the exact amoun
paid by Finsbury. The population in 1841, and the number of electors in 184(
were as follow : — The City had a population of 120,702 and 19,064 electors, c
whom 2743 were freemen; Westminster, 219,930 population and 14,254 electors
of whom 4659 were scot and lot voters under the old franchise ; Marylebone
287,465 population and 11,625 electors; Finsbury, 265,043 population and 12,97
electors; Lambeth, 197,412 population and 6547 electors ; Southwark, 142,62'
population and 4096 electors ; and the Tower Hamlets more than Lambeth am
Southwark together, or 419,730 population and 13,551 electors. The City
with its commercial activity, its concentration of capital, its immense monetar
transactions, and with interests extending to every land and every sea, situatei,
on the northern bank of the highest part of the Thames accessible to large ships!
stands in contrast with Westminster, the seat of the court, the law, the parliament
the government, the public offices, and the aristocracy; the new borough of Mary i
lebone, and its fashionable squares, with the Tower Hamlets ; and the intelligen
and respectable middle classes of Finsbury with the manufacturers of Lamhet
and Southwark. Without drawing the line very precisely, we may at least mar'
out the position of these great boroughs, and we may assume that the three o
ancient date are well known, though changes were ir.ade in them in 1832, th
whole of the Inner and Middle Temple, for example, being now included in th
City, the borough of Southwark being extended so as to comprise the parishes o
THE METROPOLITAN BOROUGHS.
271
Rotherhithe, Bermondsey, Christ Church, and the Clink Liberty; and the Duchy
Liberty was added to Westminster.
Marylebone Borough is situated north of a line drawn from Tottenham Court
Koad down the centre of Oxford Street and the Uxbridge Road to Kensin^-ton
Gardens. Its eastern boundary passes for some distance alono- Tottenham Court
Road, and then diverges eastward north of the British Museum and Russell Square ;
after which it turns southward so as to include a part of Brunswick Square and
Mecklenburgh Square, until it touches the north-eastern corner of the House of
Correction at Cold Bath Fields, from which point the boundary line runs in a
direction north-north-east. The borough of Marylebone pays the largest propor-
tion of assessed taxes of any of the new boroughs, and contains the largest pro-
portion of private houses. Portman and Cavendish Squares, and Bryanstone and
Montague Squares, Portland Place, and the Regent's Park, are within its limits.
The borough of Finsbury is situated to the eastward of Marylebone, and partly
north of the parliamentary limits of Westminster and the City of London. Its
most southern point is the Rolls Liberty, near Chancery Lane, and its northern
boundary comprises Islington. A line running for some distance north from
Finsbury Circus, and then turning to the west, is its limit to the eastward.
This borough contains a considerable number of wealthy inhabitants and trades-
men of the first class, and persons connected with the City, from the wealthy
merchant to his clerks and warehousemen. The northern part of the borough is
a favourite place of residence for persons of small fortune and those who have
retired from business, as Islington enjoys the quietness of a country place with
the advantages of a town. Finsbury also contains the British Museum and the
London Institution, the first the greatest public, and the last the greatest private
literary institution in the kingdom. The Borough of the Tower Hamlets is formed
out of a number of places which have risen from comparative insignificance, but
Inow form a great associated mass. It is situated east and north-east of the
City, and east of Finsbury, and contains the Tower, the Mint, the St. Katherine,
the London, East and West India Docks; the Blackwall Railway runs from one
end of it to the other, audit comprises that most important portion of the river
from the Tower to Blackwall. It is, in fact, a great maritime city, as the sailors
one meets, and the indications on every side, clearly testify. The western part of
the river boundary line is chiefly occupied by traders more or less connected with
shipping; then come the great ship-building yards, and along the whole of the
river side are establishments necessary for all the purposes which is required by
the greatest port in the world, either for fitting up a ship or rigging out the
seamen who are to be her crew. All the great sugar refineries are situated in
this part of the metropolis. The proportion of small houses in the borough
formed by the Tower Hamlets is larger than in any of the other metropolitan
boroughs, for it comprises Spitalfields, Whitechapel, and Bethnal Green ; but
the wealth it contains probably exceeds that of any two of the boroughs. The
Docks and their warehouses cost upwards of 5,000,000/., and the shipping is of
great value. The value of the merchandise of every kind, brought from every
1 clime, which is at all times to be found in the Docks, has been estimated at
|20,000,000Z. Passing to the opposite side of the Thames, we have the borough
of Lambeth, which on the banks of the river is intersected by the borough of
272
LONDON.
Southwark, which here occupies the shore from a point opposite the Temple
Gardens to one opposite the Tower. Lambeth Borough extends westward of
Southwark along the river to a point opposite the Penitentiary Prison at Mill-
bank. The portion east of Southwark extends along the river to a little beyond
the Commercial Docks; and the part south of Southwark reaches as far as
Brixton church ; while its south-eastern limits border upon Dulwich. In the
southern section of the borough are included Stockwell, Brixton^ the northern
part of the parish of Camberwell and Peckham. Lambeth Borough contains a
population smaller and less dense than any of the metropolitan boroughs; and
its southern part is more rural than any of them. Here are to be found many
first-rate houses, delightfully situated, and inhabited by gentry, merchants, and
bankers. The number of small houses is larger in proportion than in Maryle-
bone or Finsbury, but that of second-rate houses is greater. Lambeth may be
said to represent the manufacturing industry of the metropolis. The shipping
which arrives at the wharfs on the southern bank of the Thames consists chiefly
of coasters. The characteristics of the seven great parliamentary divisions of
the metropolis, if minutely described^ would require a Number for each^ and here
the outline is but sketched.
l:^:
[Fiiisbiiry Fields in the rcn;^ii of Elizal.ctii.j
^
w
t
[British Gallery, Pall Mall.]
CXLIIL— EXHIBITIONS OF ART.
Art in this country, since the days of Hogarth, Reynolds, Wilson, Gains-
)rough, and Barry, has been raised to no higher elevation than was then given
it, it is something to reflect that it has not been stationary — that steadily
creasing numbers of disciples have made up for the absence of a few commanding
:tellects — that we have been at least busy about the base of the building,
idening and strengthening the foundations ; perhaps, in the truest wisdom,
"eparatory to a new advance upwards : above all, that we have made Art
i miliar to the people, and thereby unlocked new sources of strength to aid it in
il future endeavours. In our account of the Royal Academy, we have already
i!scribed the earliest in point of time, and most important in respect to results,
< the agencies by which all this has been accomplished, the Academy Exhibitions ;
i the present number, we propose to notice such other exhibitions as have most
]>werfully contributed to the same end.
VOL. VI. T
274 LONDON.
And tlie first glance of the building shown in p. 273 reminds us of a debt of
gratitude due to one, who, but little of an artist himself, by his enlightened
and munificent patronage of artists, obtained, and deservedly, one of the most
honourable of earthly titles, that of a public benefactor. That building is the
original edifice raised by Alderman Boydell, for the exhibition of the Shakspere
Gallery ; which, like Barry's pictures in the Adelphi, originated in a desire
to repel, in the noblest way, the contempt of foreign critics, and set at rest at
once and for ever their peculiarly obliging and flattering speculations as to the
causes of the unfitness of England and Englishmen to produce great artistical
works. And Barry was not more successful in his way than Boydell in his,
Throwing wide his doors, with but one condition of entrance, indisputable talent
and selecting as a truly national subject the works of Shakspere, Boydell spared
no cost to achieve his truly glorious object of establishing a school of Englisli
historical painting, that should have at least all the vigour and originality ol
youth, if with something also of its immaturity. Reynolds, West, Opie, Northcote
Fuseli, were among the labourers in this goodly field, and the result, as showri
in several successive years, with universal admiration and delight, in the Galler}
here, must have surpassed even the most sanguine anticipations of the projector
Unfortunately, Boydell, at the age of eighty-five, became involved in difficultieSj
through the wars of the French Revolution : it appears that, by his own unaide
exertions, he had, prior to the commencement of the Shakspere Gallery, completel
turned the current of importation of -prinis from France to France, simply throug
making our best engravings as superior as they had previously been inferio;
to those of the Continent. He now determined to dispose of his Gallery bjl
lottery. In the interesting memorial laid by him before Parliament, he state
that in his enthusiasm for art he had constantly expended all his gains in furtheij
engagements with unemployed artists ; that he had laid out, with his brethren
in the course of his career, 350,000/., and accumulated a stock of copper-platei
which all the print sellers in Europe together would be unable to purchase. Tb
lottery was of course granted; and Boydell just lived to see the last ticket dis
posed of. He died in 1804. Two of the most magnificent books that ever de
lighted the eyes of connoisseurs in prints and printing remain in memorial of thi
gigantic undertaking ; the one consisting of the superb engravings made unde
Boy deli's patronage from the paintings, a volume measuring three feet by two
and the other of a no less superb edition of the great poet, to accompany the plates
printed in nine folio volumes. None but a caricaturist could have made such i
man a subject for ridicule, as did Gillray in his large print of the Shakspere Gal
lery travestied ; which excited so much attention, that it is said even the artisti
who were most actively engaged under Boydell could not rest till they had eacl
obtained a copy. Boydell one day called on one of them, an R. A., who had a laj
figure before him, from which he was studying for one of the great works tha
afterwards adorned the Gallery, and pinned to the figure was Gillray's caricature
" Ha !" said Boydell, feeling for his spectacles, '' what have we got here that look
so fine?" But an accident relieved the troubled R. A. from his dilemma. Boydel
had sat down Upon a palette nicely prepared for the day's work, which the servan
at the moment discovering, called his attention to; so while the attendan
i
EXHIBITIONS OF ART. 275
craped away, and Boy dell pleasantly observed, " Oh, I have only taken a proof
mpression of your art/' the obnoxious print was hurried into obscurity and for-
otten.
One need not wonder at the difficulties attending the discovery of the true origin
f ancient institutions, when we see the uncertainties that grow up frequently
out modern ones, even during the life-times of the very men who have aided and
sisted in the formation. When West re- assumed the presidential chair of the
oyal Academy, after his temporary retirement, he endeavoured to form a national
sociation for the encouragement of works of dignity and importance, and impor-
ned minister after minister, Pitt, Fox, and Perceval, to listen to and support his
an ; and but for the death of each, just when matters looked most promising, he
uld probably have succeeded ; as it was he failed ; and from the wreck of his
agnificent scheme rose the British Institution. Such is Allan Cunningham's
tement. But if we look into the pages of that very agreeable miscellany,
blished, for a short period, about twenty years ago, the Somerset House
azette, it appears, that poetry may claim some honour in the matter. The writer,
ving alluded to the indifference and apathy among the great, who in their pre-
dices in favour of our old masters entirely overlooked the claims which living
ent had upon their consideration, adds, *' at length a professor, in his hours of
axation from the labours of his palette, diverted the spare energies of his mind
the exercise of his pen, and the elegant and patriotic appeal of the * Rhymes on
|rt ' touched the sympathies of those noble minds to whom they were addressed,
d we beheld the British Institution."* Lastly, we are told, and this is the
neral statement of the case, that the immediate cause that gave rise to the Insti-
ion was the impossibility of doing justice to large historical subjects, among the
|Scellaneous multitudes of pictures at the Royal Academy exhibition, and in con-
uence that the British Institution was founded in 1805, on a plan by Sir Thomas
frnard, for the encouragement of art and artists, by an annual exhibition of the
rks of the old masters, borrowed for the occasion from whatever quarter they
lid be obtained ; and by an another annual exhibition of the works of living
itish artists, for sale. The truth, no doubt, is, that the British Institution is a
ult of all the causes enumerated ; its very constitution implies a conquest over a va-
ty of difficulties that time, and many separate agencies, must have aided to achieve.
is hardly possible to imagine an Institution better calculated, under vigorous
nnagement, to accomplish its professed purposes. Here is a body of noblemen
mA gentlemen of the highest rank, combining first to lend their own best pictures,
™the study of the artist and the enjoyment of the public; secondly, to collect
tc ether yearly, without respect to names, or invidious distinctions, as many of
best productions of the native school, in painting and sculpture, as their gallery
1 hold, for sale ; themselves again by that very practice declaring their readiness
ndividuals to purchase ; and, thirdly, adding to these weighty advantages, the
!l more direct ones of occasionally rewarding the best works exhibited by valuable
jmiums and bounties. Such, in brief, were the views, such the modes adopted
iideveloping them, by the patriotic founders of the British Institution, when
* ' Somerset House Gazette,' No. XX., 1824.
t2
276 LONDON.
they purchased the Shakspere Gallery and commenced operations, The benefit
rendered by it to art since that time have been truly great ; and a history of th
Institution would form a valuable as well as a most entertaining work. With ou
limited space, to notice here and there a salient feature is all that can be at
tempted. Among the years that have been marked by circumstances of extraor
dinary interest, we may mention 1813, when Reynolds' works, collected at a vas
expenditure of time and money, from all quarters, made England more than eve
proud of its greatest painter. Reynolds once remarked that fine paintings wer
walls hung round with thoughts : the remark, it may be said, derived fresh fore
and significancy from this assemblage of his own works. Of the popularity (
such an exhibition it is unnecessary to speak ; the present President of th
Academy, in one of his poems, says of it —
" 'T was taste at home — a route declared
Where every grace and muse repair'd,
Where wit and genius found a treat,
And beaux and beauties loved to meet."
This glorious and truly national exhibition was followed, in 1801, by a simil
collection of the productions of Hogarth, Wilson, Gainsborough, and Zoffan^
which was indeed wonderfully rich : there were no less than 54 paintings I
Hogarth, 87 by Wilson, and 74 by Gainsborough. But the gratification Wc
not altogether unalloyed. There were few to whom Wilson's history w£
familiar, that could avoid a sense of pain and humiliation at the recollection
the cruel neglect with which one of that noble trio had been treated ; how pawr
brokers had refused the merest trifle to poor Wilson for works which since h
death would be cheaply purchased for hundreds of pounds. There has alwa}
seemed to us something very unaccountable in this, considering Wilson's acknov
lodged reputation among his contemporaries ; an apparently well-informed write
in ' Arnold's Magazine ' (1 832) partially explains the causes. Barret, who cam
to London in 1761, was received with open arms by the fashionable world, and i
once demanded and received prices three or four times higher than Wilson ha
ever asked ; Lord Dalkeith, for instance, gave him for three pictures, the large;
only the size of a whole length, 1500 guineas. Wilson's proud spirit from th(
time would not stoop to his former prices; he advanced them, and in consequem
became more neglected than ever. But the most serious injury to his prospec
arose from a little incident, in which he carried his independence of feeling ar
expression into his dealings with royalty. '' Kir by," says the writer we ha^
mentioned, " who taught perspective to the King (George III.), wished to intn
duce Wilson's works to his Majesty's notice, and commissioned him to paint
picture on that account. As Lord Bute was the proper person to show it to h
Majesty, the picture, when finished, was sent by Kirby to his lordship's hous
The subject was a view of Sion House, upon a half-length canvass. Lord But
who was almost exclusively partial to highly-finished Flemish landscapes, as thoi
of Hobbima and Ruysdael, called it a daub; but inquired the price, which 1
found to be sixty guineas. He thought it too much, and said that fifty would I
suflficient. When the circumstance was reported to Wilson, he angrily exclaime
' If the King cannot afford to pay so large a sum at once, I will take it by insta
EXHIBITIONS OF ART. 277
ments of ten pounds a time.' This hasty effusion was carried to the King, and
Wilson was never employed by royalty or the court."* This spirit, his quarrel
with Reynolds, and the popularity of Barret and Gainsborough, combined alto-
gether to depress the greatest landscape-painter to such a position, that he called
one day on a brother painter, and asked, in a tone of the deepest bitterness and
despair, if he knew any one who was mad enough to employ a landscape-painter,
and if so, would he recommend him ? for he had then literally nothing to do.
What a question to be put by such a man, and to — Barry !
Following these two exhibitions of the English school came, in 1815, Eembrandt,
Vandyck, Rubens, with their Flemish and Dutch successors; and, in 1816, the
Italian and Spanish masters. Then, in 1817, there were the deceased British
nasters; in 1820, the portraits representing the most distinguished persons in
he history and literature of the United Kingdom ; and since that time, among
)thers of great interest, the exhibition together of the works of the three Presi-
lents, Reynolds, West, and Lawrence, of the works alone of the last-named after
lis death, and of Wilkie's after his. There is something peculiarly fine in this
ustom of bringing together the works of a man's life-time, when, alas ! he can no
nger add to their number. They form a monument to his memory better than
tone or brass ; they are calculated to call forth more spontaneous and genuine
grets for the departed than the most eloquent epitaph ever penned. And what
study does such an exhibition become to the young painter; what strength may
16 not derive from it for the prosecution of his own career ! Take the Wilkie
hibition, for instance. Why, on those walls the great artist's history, written
his own hand, lay before our eyes. There, for instance, was his first remark-
le work, the ' Village Recruit,' which he brought with him to London, and
posed for sale in a shop-window at Charing Cross, with the price of 6/. attached
it, and for which sum it was speedily sold. There, too, was the ' Village Poli-
Icians,' painted from the '' ale-caup commentators " in the ballad of ' Will and
an,' by Macneil, which at its first exhibition startled artistic London from its
opriety, Northcote denouncing it as the '" pauper style," and Fuseli, a more
lightened critic, observing to the young painter, " That is a dangerous work :
at picture will either prove the most happy or the most unfortunate work
your life :" which of the two it turned out to be we need not state,
here too, belonging to the very culminating period of Wilkie's powers in
s own peculiar walk, was the ' Chelsea Pensioners,' his greatest work, for
ich he received from the Duke of Wellington 1200 guineas. Then, again,
ere were a whole host of works belonging to his later style, his pictures of
onks and Guerillas, his ' Columbus,' and his ' Maid of Saragossa,' telling
lit in subject only, but in their entire treatment, of the impression made upon
lis mind by his study of the Spanish painters. Of course, his noble ' John Knox
l-eaching ' and his ' Siege of Seringapatam ' were not missing ; nor his Oriental
bjccts, which forcibly spoke to us of the scenes in which his last hours were
ent, and in returning from which he found so poetical a grave.
The exhibitions at the British Institution of modern works, of course, are also
* Anecdotes of Artists, Arnold's Mag. 1832.
278 LONDON.
a most interesting field for comment and reminiscence, but into which, for varioits
reasons that will be sufficiently evident, we must not enter, further than to
notice the exhibition of 1822, when such an extraordinary sensation was made by
the appearance of Martin's ' Belshazzar's Feast,' not only on account of its general
grandeur of conception, but for the technical skill, unequalled, perhaps, in the
history of art, which had been brought into the service of a truly sublime con-
ception ; we allude to the hand-writing on the wall, the letters of which appeared
to be really blazing with light, and illumining the whole scene around. There
was at first an impression among artists that the effect was the result of some
kind of transparency ; we need hardly say the almost magical result was pro-
duced by the ordinary means, disposition of colours, and of light and shade. At
that same exhibition was another picture, which at once took rank among oui
chief English historical paintings. Bird's ' Chevy Chase ;' a picture having for its
subject a passage from that fine old ballad, which stirred the heart of Sir Philip
Sidney like a trumpet, and which Ben Jonson said was well worth all his dramas.
And the picture is steeped in the poetry and feeling of the antique verses. The
history of its production is not without interest. The writer of a memoir of Bird,
in ' Arnold's Magazine,' says that he, whilst " in company with a few friends, once
asked Bird why he had never painted a picture from a subject which had been
such a favourite with him in his boyish days, the battle of Chevy Chase, of which
he had already made a sketch. Bird said, ' I will paint a picture of this favourite
subject, if the present party will agree to purchase it ; and I will get it ready foi
the competition at the British Institution — the premium, if obtained, to be yours.
This proposition was agreed to, and the design was taken from the day following
the battle : —
.* Next day did many a widow come
Their husbands to bewail ;
They wash'd their wounds in briny tears,
But all would not prevail.'
" The picture was finished and sent to London, but a letter was despatched b)
the Secretary to Bird, with the mortifying intelligence that his painting had beer
delivered after the appointed time for the reception of the candidates' works, but
that it would be allowed its proper situation in the exhibition. Bird generousl}
offered to return the money he had received for it from his friends, but they as
sured him that it was merely to give a stimulus to his exertions that they ha(
secured the purchase; and that even if it had obtained the premium, it was no
their intention to have deprived him of the benefit resulting from his own talents
The picture was, however, purchased by the Marquis of Stafford for three hun
dred guineas, the price that had been fixed."
The circumstances attending the production of Bird's next picture, and its ex
hibition at the British Institution, are also interesting, and have been describee
by the same writer, evidently from personal knowledge. The success of thi
* Chevy Chase,' it appears, *' encouraged Bird to commence a trial picture for th(
ensuing year. His next subject was the Death of Eli, and having (as was to(
frequently the case) neglected it till the eleventh hour, he threw the picture aside
and abandoned all thoughts of completing it. Sudden determinations and revivi
EXHIBITIONS OF ART.
''^/^<<W^^^^^^^'^'^^^''^^f^'^^:^^
■^y'-v -.-.f
[The Battle of Chevy Chase.— Bird.]
led hopes form no inconsiderable portions of the circumstances of genius, and we
)ften behold in the career of men of superior powers, the very improbability of
juccess stimulating to a task of magnitude. Within three days of the time
ippointed for its reception at the British Gallery, the artist was assailed by an
invincible desire to proceed with his long neglected work. With a rapidity seldom
equalled he dashed in the principal part of the picture, he succeeded in realizing
lis wishes, and in two days his '^ Death of Eli' was completed. It was despatched
to the coach-office [Bird then resided at Bristol], wet from the pencil, but was re-
Pused by the book-keeper, on account of its size and the quantity of luggage
ilready waiting. The spirited coach-proprietor, the late John Weekes, coming
bto the coach-office, and being made acquainted with the circumstance, declared
^hat all the luggage should be unpacked, sooner than that Mr. Bird's picture should
)e delayed. To this kindly interference the painter was indebted for his success :
the picture was adjudged the premium of three hundred guineas, and was like-
wise purchased by the Marquis of Stafford," for five hundred guineas ; of which
^ast named sum, according to Allan Cunningham, Bird received but three hun-
Ired, the picture having been painted on commission for three gentlemen of
280 LONDON.
Bristol, who, he says, pocketed the difference, and then offered a fresh commis-
sion to the artist, which he declined; but the story above narrated seems to
show that this is an error, arising probably from the circumstances attending
the production of the ' Chevy Chase,' as already stated by one of the parties
concerned.
Besides the two annual exhibitions we have mentioned, there is a third of the
copies made by students from certain pictures by the old masters, left for that
purpose after the exhibition to which they belonged closes. To this the public
are admitted free — at each of the others, the admission fee is one shilling. It
would be a noble thing in the Directors of the British Institution to throw open
the doors of these exhibitions for one or two days of the week, during the season,
or for two or three weeks after, to those who are unable to spare a shilling ; let us
trust that that unfortunately large class of the public will yet have to thank them
for such a boon. Of the Gallery itself we may observe that the interior is well
fitted for its uses. The exterior is decorated with a piece of sculpture, by Banks,
executed for Boydell, as we may guess from the subject, which represents Shak-
spere accompanied by Poetry and Painting ; and in the hall is a colossal statue
of Achilles mourning the loss of Briseis, also by Banks, and esteemed one of the
noblest efforts of his genius. But that statue is scarcely a less honourable memo-
rial of the fortitude than of the grandeur of the sculptor's mind. It was sent by
him to the Royal Academy exhibition soon after his return to England, from
Russia, whither he had gone half in despair, at his want of success among his
countrymen. Upon this work Banks had expended all his power, in the hope of
making his second appearance a more successful one than his first ; what then
must have been the anguish of the unfortunate artist when the statue, whilst on
its way to Somerset House, was accidentally thrown from the car, and broken to
pieces ? Banks, however, returned home, said nothing to his wife or daughter of
what had happened, and with the assistance of his brother set to work to restore
it, if possible. They were successful in their most difficult task : the Achilles
appeared before the public, and was received with universal admiration.
One of the most interesting features in British art is the sudden growth of the
school of painting in water-colours ; there are those living to whom it must seem
as it were but yesterday, when to say a man was a water-colour painter was to
give the idea of his fitness to make correct topographical drawings, and — nothing
more. Nay, when artists arose who thought proper to make it something more,
and who laid the foundation of a department of British art, in which the native
artist should be unrivalled ; when these men arose, and at last formed themselves
into a separate society, under the designation of the Society of Painters in Water-
Colours, their brother artists actually treated the assumption of the title as a most
unwarrantable act, denying the right of the mere draughtsman and tinters to rank
under the same lofty name as themselves of painters. We have changed all that
now; and it is but justice to mention that no inconsiderable portion of the
change has been owing to the exquisite productions of Turner, who, with
Girtin, and in a minor degree, the late John Varley, founded the art. It is cu-
rious to contrast this position of the water-colour painters, so short a time ago,
with the fact that water-colour painters were in reality almost the only old
EXHIBITIONS OF ART.
281
English artists, or limners, as they were formerly called. '' Oil-colours were not
used for imitative art until the fifteenth century, when Van Eyck, by boiling lin-
seed, poppy, and nut oils, with certain resinous mixtures, obtained a vehicle so
much better adapted than any then in use, for working, for effect, and durability,
that it was generally adopted by the artists of the period when it became known.
What these mixtures were which Van Eyck used is not now known, but Vasari
calls them a varnish, which all painters had long desired. From this time what
is called oil-painting became general, and the various methods in water-colours
were proportionately neglected, or employed only when oil-painting was a less
convenient mode, as for theatrical and similar decorations, for which distemper
{a tempera, that is, with an Ggg, yolk and white together) is better adapted;"*
and so the matter may be said to have remained, as far as art was concerned,
till about the commencement of the present century, when water-colours again
came into use, first for one kind of subject, then another, until at last, if we step
into one of the two water-colour exhibitions of the present period, we may reason-
ably wonder whether there is any department of art for which it is not admirably
adapted — from the smallest landscape to the largest historical subject -, — fresco,
be it remembered, now in all probability again coming into extensive use, is a
department of water-colour painting. Of Girtin, one of the founders of this
modern school, a curious story is told by the author of the anecdotes before men-
tioned, who states that Girtin himself was his informant in 1802. When Lord
Elgin was about to set out as ambassador to Constantinople, Girtin, it appears,
had a great desire to accompany him, naturally fancying the position would be
at once delightful to him as an artist, lucrative, and honourable. After many
visits, and a good deal of delay and uncertainty, his lordship offered him 30/.
a-year (of course, we presume, including his board, &c.), adding, that as Lady
Elgin had a taste for drawing, he wished to know whether he would engage to
assist her in decorating fire-screens, work-tables, and such other elegancies.
Girtin, who probably was at first too much surprised at finding his services esti-
mated at about the same rate as his lordship's butler's to treat the proposal as
it deserved, replied that for that department he feared he was not the fit man,
and that he must add the salary was too small. His lordship remarked he
was poor. ''Then," said Girtin, "I will engage to find a publisher who shall
return the whole money I am to receive from your lordship, on receiving from
you the drawings I am to make." With that Lord Elgin and the artist parted;
of course neither feeling the smallest desire to renew their conversations on the
subject.
Of the three founders of the Water-colour school, Varley alone appears to have
been connected with the society, which was formed in order to get rid of the
serious disadvantages attending the exhibition of water-colour drawings among
paintings in oil, the strength and body of the colours in the last naturally over-
powering the more delicate hues of the first. Two societies were in consequence
formed, one of which soon died ; the other lives and flourishes to this day, under
the name of the (Old) Society of Painters in Water-Colours. The founders were
w
« i
Penny CyclopsDdia,'- Water Colours.
'^.
282 LONDON.
Samuel Shelley, a miniature painter of celebrity, and a protege of Reynolds, at
whose house the early deliberations were held. Hills, Wells, Glover, of whom a
distinguished portrait-painter used to say he was the only landscape-painter who
had conveyed to his mind a perfect idea of the immensity of a mountain, and Pyne ;
to whom were added by the time of the first exhibition, among others. Barret,
Cristall, Gilpin, E-igaud, andW. Havell, whose naturally rich style was greatly en-
hanced by Mr. Turner's discovery of the process of taking out the lights of a j)icture
with bread, which produced an effect perfectly marvellous to the unaccustomed
eyes of his brother painters. The first exhibition took place in Lower Brook Street,
and among those who crowded the rooms the Royal Academicians, to their honour
be it said, were conspicuous. From Lower Brook Street the Society in progress
of time moved to Spring Gardens. We may here observe, that among the pictures
of Sir John Swinburne is a small one purchased at one of the exhibitions in
Spring Gardens, which that liberal patron of art is, we believe, accustomed to
show as the earliest exhibited production of Mr. Edwin Landseer, and the circum-
stance is referred to as a proof of the young painter's ignorance of the difference
between the two exhibitions, his work being in oil ; but we presume the fact has
been overlooked, that it was at Spring Gardens the water-colour painters became
dissatisfied with the principle upon which they had established themselves, and
allowed oil-paintings to be exhibited among their other productions. This, no
doubt, was owing to the circumstance that some, perhaps most, of the members
of the Society painted in both ways, and that the popularity of the new or revived
mode was not altogether satisfactory to them. A division took place ; but, in
1821, the members wisely reverted to their former system, and exhibited water-
colour paintings only in the Egyptian Hall ; where they remained till they built
themselves a Gallery in Pall Mall East, at which place they have gone on in-
creasing in prosperity as in years ; till apparently they began to feel themselves
getting too prosperous, too rich, and so imposed restrictions on their wealth, or
what we should call their wealth ; they would only have so many members, no
matter what amount of talent might be waiting to join them. As none but
members were permitted to exhibit, the result was inevitable, the formation
of a new society of painters in water-colours, which accordingly was accom-
plished in 1832, though not on a firm basis till 1835, when the first exhibition
took place in Exeter Hall. This, too, has enjoyed a rapid course of pros-
perity; and will doubtless continue to advance just so long as the members
recollect its origin, and give no cause, either by limitations or invidious dis-
tinctions which pure Art will not acknowledge, to other men to follow their
example. The Gallery of this Society is also in Pall Mall. The charge for
admission to each of the Water- Colour exhibitions is a shilling. The only other
metropolitan Society of British Artists is the one known by that designation,
which was established in 1823 for the exhibition of paintings, sculpture, archi-
tecture, and engravings, and which possesses the finest gallery for exhibition in
London ; containing about 700 feet of wall, well lighted. Here also the numbers
are limited; though at the outset that point was of the less consequence, inasmuch
as that all works were admitted free, whether the productions of members or no.
We may here pause a moment to mention a very admirable institution that exists
EXHIBITIONS OF ART. 283
among artists, and which deserves to be generally known and imitated. They
have a society established by themselves, at first under the name of the Artists
Joint Stock Fund, now generally called the Artists' Annuity Fund, founded on
the principle of securing each other against distress, either during sickness or in
the decline of life, when the hand may be no longer able to inscribe on the canvas
the busy thoughts that yet people as of yore the brain. Grafted upon this, sub-
sequently, we find the Artists' Benevolent Fund, to which the public largely
contribute. The result of the two is that an artist, who subscribes whilst in
health to the institution, receives during sickness 305. a-week, and when super-
annuated an annuity of 60Z. per year; whilst there are other important benefits
also secured to his widow and children on his decease. How inestimable would
be the blessings of such an institution to literary men !
Turn we now to a different class of exhibitions that have also in their way
helped to diffuse a taste for art among the million, the Panoramas, Dioramas,
Cosmoramas, and we know not how many other pictorial shows with similarly
terminating designations. Of these the Panorama takes precedence in point of
time. This is of national origin ; its invention being due to Robert Barker, an
Englishman, who exhibited at Leicester Square about J 794. The process of
painting is distemper ; but applied in a peculiarly ingenious way. The two
principal existing Panoramas are Burford's, in Leicester Square, and that of
the Colosseum, in the Regent's Park, the last the largest painting of the kind
ever attempted, covering, in short, nearly an acre of canvas ; there, ascending a
flight of steps in the centre of an immense rotunda till we reach the platform on
the top, London suddenly bursts upon us, with all the freshness and reality of
life — giving us almost the same sensations of being placed on a giddy height
that we feel in standing on the spot from whence Mr. Horner took his view,
namely, the top of St. Paul's. The picture is lighted all round by the skylight
which is over our heads, but hidden from us, and although the lower part is
somewhat dim from the immense height of the picture, that circumstance almost
helps the general illusion. Indeed, in looking at this panorama, it requires an
effort to weigh as they deserve all the difficulties that must have been sur-
mounted. In such works the artist can neither concentrate his light, nor adapt
its direction to suit his own purposes ; he must take the sun's beams as they
come, now strong upon this side of his picture in the morning, now on that in the
afternoon. Then, again, he has to represent horizontal buildings on a curved
surface ; above all, he has no single point of sight, the spectator must turn as he
pleases, and everywhere find a grand and harmonious whole. The Colosseum is
at present closed, but will shortly, we believe, re-open. The Diorama is a still
more delightful piece of artistical illusion, and of very recent origin ; the authors
are M. Daguerre, since so famous for his discovery of drawing by the agency of
light, and M. Bouton. When the Diorama was first exhibited in the French
capital, the Parisians were in an ecstacy, and in London its welcome was scarcely
less enthusiastic. This took place in 1823, when the building in the Regent's
Park, erected from the designs of Messrs. Morgan and Pugin, was first opened.
The interior consists of a rotunda forty feet in diameter, for the spectators, with
a single opening, like the proscenium of a stage on one side. Surrounding this is
•284
LONDON.
[The Colosseum.]
another rotunda with a similar opening, through which, — as the inner rotunda
revolves till the openings in the two rotundas correspond, — the spectators behold
the picture in the picture-room beyond. For convenience there are in fact two
openings in the outer rotunda, revealing two different picture-rooms^ in order
that two paintings may be exhibited to the visitors, by merely turning the inner
rotunda from one opening to the other. Those who have not beheld the extra-
ordinary scenes that open upon the eye, with each gyration of this platform, can
hardly credit the extent to which illusion is here carried. The spectator stands
in almost total darkness, till through the proscenium^ the picture is revealed to his
gaze, which is placed at such a distance, that light can be thrown upon it in front
at a proper angle from the roof, which is here too, of course, hidden from him.
He sees, therefore, nothing but the picture, which^ under such circumstances,
acquires an extraordinary beauty and reality of appearance. And as the glazed
roof will admit a great deal of light, whilst but little is needed merely to show
the work, the exhibitor may be said to have an almost unlimited store of light
at his disposal, enabling him from time to time to subdue or increase it, and
suddenly or gradually, at his pleasure, by means of folds or screens of dif-
ferent kinds attached to the glass roof; and which also enable him at the same
time to imitate the most subtle and delicate atmospheric effects. But there is even
yet another advantage possessed by the painter in this very beautiful exhibition.
He can make parts of his picture transparent, and with different degrees of trans-
parency, thus obtaining a brilliancy impossible to be obtained by the ordinary mode,
whilst he possesses all the strength and solidity of that mode in the more opaque
EXHIBITIONS OF ART.
285
parts of his picture. With this preliminary explanation let us pay our two
shillings in the vestibule of the exhibition, ascend the stairs, and submit ourselves
to the guidance of the attendant waiting to receive and conduct us to a seat
through the darkness-visible of the theatre, into which we enter ; a precaution
rendered necessary by the transition from light to gloom, which at first almost
incapacitates us for the use of our own eyes. In front opens, receding appa-
rently like the stage of a theatre, a view of the beautiful basilica or church of
St. Paul, with its range of delicate pillars and small Moorish-like connecting
arches at the top, over which again the entire flat surface of the wall appears
covered with beautiful paintings, now lit up by the radiance of the moon stream-
ing in through the windows on the opposite side. This is the church erected by
Constantino the Great, over the supposed resting-place of St. Paul, and which
was burnt down in 1823 ; since which period great efforts have been made for its
restoration ; the work, we may add, is still in progress. But as we gaze — the
dark cedar roof disappears, and we see nothing but the pure blue Italian sky,
whilst below, some of the pillars have fallen — the floor is covered with wrecks ;
the whole, in short, has almost instantaneously changed to a perfect and mourn-
ful picture of the church after the desolation wrought by the fire. A bell now
rings, we find ourselves in motion ; the whole theatre in which we sit, moves
round till its wall closes the aperture or stage, and we are in perfect darkness ;
the bell rings again, a curtain rises, and we are looking on the time-worn towers,
transepts, and buttresses of Notre Dame, its rose window on the left, and the
water around its base reflecting back the last beams of the setting sun. Gradually
these reflections disappear, the warm tints fade from the sky, and are succeeded by
the cool grey hue of twilight, and that again by night — deepening by insensible
degrees till the quay and the surrounding buildings and the water are no longer
distinguishable, and Notre Dame itself scarcely reveals to us its outlines against
the sky. Before we have long gazed on this scene the moon begins to emerge
slowly — very slowly, from the opposite quarter of the heavens, its first faint rays
tempering apparently rather than dispersing the gloom ; presently a slight radi-
ance touches the top of one of the pinnacles of the cathedral — and glances as it
were athwart the dark breast of the stream ; now growing more powerful, the
projections of Notre Dame throw their light and fantastic shadows over the left
side of the building, until at last, bursting forth in serene unclouded majesty,
the whole scene is lit up, except where the vast Cathedral interrupts its beams,
on the quay here to the left, and where through the darkness the lamps are now
seen, each illumining its allotted space. Hark ! the clock of Notre Dame strikes !
and low and musical come the sounds — it is midnight — scarcely has the vibration
of the last note ceased, before the organ is heard, and the solemn service of the
Catholic church begins — beautiful, inexpressibly beautiful — one forgets creeds at
such a time, and thinks only of prayer : we long to join them. And yet all this
is illusion (the sounds of course excepted) — a flat piece of canvas, with some
colours distributed upon it, is all that is before us; though where that canvas can
be, it seems, to one's eyes at least, impossible to determine; they cannot by any
mental processes be satisfied that buildings, distance, atmosphere are not before
them — to such perfection has the Diorama been brought.
286 LONDON.
But none of these Panoramas^ Dioramas, or Cosmoramas, the last a pretty little
exhibition, embodying in a minor degree the principles of both the former, can
equal after all De Loutherbourg's famous petite stage, the very name of which is
almost enough to make one lift up one's hands in wonder — Eidophusikon — yes,
that 's the word — Eidophusikon. If we say that this stage was of the extraordinary
dimensions of six feet wide, by eight deep, the reader will be apt to smile at the
idea of the performances thereon, and certainly find it difficult to believe the marvels
wrought in that space, as recorded by the agreeable author of ' Wine and Walnuts ;*
who says that " such was the painter's knowledge of effect and scientific arrange-
ment, and the scenes which he described were so completely illusive, that the space
appeared to recede for many miles, and his horizon seemed as palpably distant
from the eye as the extreme termination of the view would appear in nature.'*
The stage was lighted from the top of the proscenium, in a natural manner ; the
clouds in every scene positively floated upon the atmosphere, and moved faster or
slower, ascended or descended, apparently in obedience to the ordinary laws that
regulate their movements ; the waves^ carved in soft wood, and highly varnished,
undulated, and threw up their foam, when at comparative rest, but as the storm
began to rage grew more and more violent, till, at last, their commotion appeared
truly awful ; the vessels, exquisite little models of the craft represented, rose and
sunk, and appeared to move fast or slow according to their bulk, and distance
from the eye ; rain, hail, thunder, and lightning descended in all their varying
degrees of intensity and grandeur ; natural looking light from the sun, the moon,
or from more artificial sources, was reflected naturally back wherever it fell on a
proper surface ; now the moonlight, for instance, appeared sleeping on the wave ;
now the lurid flash lit up the tumultuous sea ; and all these, and a variety of other
imitations of natural phenomena were brought into the service of landscapes, and
other scenes from nature, of the most exquisite kind. Loutherbourg, we need hardly
say, was a fine painter, but here, no matter how small the canvas, he was absolutely
great. His whole heart and soul indeed were wrapt up in his Eidophusikon. The
opening subject, it seems, " represented the view from the summit of One tree hill,
in Greenwich Park, looking up the Thames to the Metropolis ; on one side, conspi-
cuous upon its picturesque eminence, stood Flam steed House (the Observatory),
and below, on the right, the grand mass of building, Greenwich Hospital, with its
imposing cupolas, cut out of pasteboard, and painted with architectural correctness.
The large groups of trees formed another division ; behind which were the towns of
Greenwich and Deptford, with the shore on each side stretching to the metropolis,
which was seen in its vast extent from Chelsea to Poplar. Behind were the hills
of Hampstead, Highgate, and Harrow; and the intermediate space was occupied
by the flat stage, as the pool or port of London, crowded with shipping, each mass
being cut out in pasteboard, and receding in size by the perspective of their dis-
tance. The heathy appearance of the fore-ground was constructed of cork, broken
into the rugged and picturesque forms of a sand-pit, covered with minute mosses
and lichens, producing a captivating effect, amounting indeed to reality. This
scene on the rising of the curtain was enveloped in that mysterious light which is
the precursor of day-break, so true to nature that the imagination of the spectator
sniffed the sweet breath of morn. A faint light appeared along the horizon \ the
EXHIBITIONS OF ART.
287
•scere assumed a vapourish tint of grey ; and presently a gleam of saffron, changing
to the pure varieties that tinge the fleecy clouds that pass away in mornincr mist;
the picture brightened by degrees; the sun appeared gilding the tops'' of the
trees, and the projections of the lofty buildings, and burnishing the vanes on the
cupolas; when the whole scene burst upon the eye in the gorgeous splendour of
a beauteous day!"
Scenes of a more absorbing nature followed. A ' Storm at Sea* was exhibited
with all its characteristic features, and with almost incredible eff'ect; old mariners
could hardly persuade themselves they were not once more surrounded by the
most imminent danger, and that they ought not themselves to reply to the si<rnal-
guns of distress, which in the pauses of the terrific gale were heard vainly askinir
for assistance, and replying with melancholy significance to each other ; whilst
with the spectators generally the illusion was so consummate that it was a common
thing for some one to cry out, " Hark ! the signal came from that vessel labouring
out there — and now from that !" But the grandest of all the exhibitions of this
most perfect of theatres was the last scene, in which was represented, from Milton,
Satan arraying his troops in the fiery lake, and the rising of the Palace of Pande-
monium. Here, " in the fore- ground of a vista, stretching an immeasurable length
between mountains, ignited from their bases to their lofty summits, with many-
coloured flame, a chaotic mass rose in dark majesty, which gradually assumed
form until it stood, the interior of a vast temple of gorgeous architecture, bright
as molten brass, seemingly composed of unconsuming and unquenchable fire. In
this tremendous scene, the eflect of coloured glasses before the lamps was fully
displayed ; which being hidden from the audience, threw their whole influence
upon the scene, as it rapidly changed, now to a sulphurous blue, then to a lurid
red, and then again to a pale vivid light, and ultimately to a mysterious combi-
nation of the glasses, such as a bright furnace exhibits in fusing various metals.
The sound which accompanied the wondrous picture struck the astonished ear of
the spectator as no less preternatural ; for, to add a more awful character to peals
of thunder, and the accompaniments of all the hollow machinery that hurled balls
and stones with indescribable rumbling and noise, an expert assistant swept his
thumb over the surface of a tambourine, which produced a variety of groans
that struck the imagination as issuing from infernal spirits." Such an exhi-
bition, one would suppose, could hardly fail to be popular, and whilst new
it was so — every' one who beheld it admired, and none more than artists.
The dread Sir Joshua himself, who ruled his little world with a power scarcely
less potent than Jupiter's, though after a somewhat more benignant fashion, came
again and again, not merely to nod approbation, but to look on with a pleasure
that he desired to make contagious : he recommended the ladies among his ac-
quaintance to take their daughters, who studied drawing, to see it, as the best
artificial school in which to study the beauties and sublimities of nature. But the
Eidophusikon — we love the word — was half a century before its time ; so two
seasons sufficed to reduce its audiences to so low a point, that the painter was induced
to dispose of his exhibition ; and, in so doing, we should fancy, must have half broken
his heart. His enthusiasm once reached an almost ludicrous height. The author
of the account from which we have borrowed our facts and extracts, speaks of
288 LONDON.
an opportunity he enjoyed of comparing the effect of the awful phenomenon—
a thunder-storm, with the imitative thunder of De Loutherbourg's. " A lady
exclaimed ' It lightens V and, in great agitation, pointed to an aperture that
admitted air to the upper seats. The consternation caused by this discovery in-
duced many to retire to the lobby, some of whom, moved by terror or superstition,
observed 'that the exhibition was presumptuous!'" A party, however, moved
to the gallery, and, opening a door, stood upon the landing-place, where they
could compare the real with the artificial, when it seems the last bore the compa-
rison remarkably well. But the writer does not mention De Loutherbourg's own
opinion as to such a comparison, when he and Gainsborough watched, in a similar
manner, the real and the artificial phenomena; and when the delighted painter so
far forgot himself as to call out, '' By — , Gainsborough, our thunder 's best !"
[Stock Exchange, Capel Court.]
CXLIV.— THE STOCK EXCHANGE.
This country," said the late Mr. Hotliscliild, in 1832, '' is, in general, the Bank
f the whole world — I mean, that all transactions in India, in China, in Ger-
nmy, in Russia, and in the whole world, are all guided here, and settled in this
c intry." The centre of these operations, the heart, as it were, of this ^' Bank
f the whole world" is a circumscribed spot lying eastward of the Mansion
Imse. Passing this Palace of the King of the City we are in an open space
vich it is intended to embellish by an equestrian statue of the great warrior of
tl age, and the Bank of England and the Royal Exchange are immediately before
u The streets which branch off from this point are King William Street and
Imbard Street on the right, Cornhill in the centre, and Threadneedle Street on
tl left, the north side of the latter street being formed by the Bank of England,
a I the south side partly by the Royal Exchange. Princes Street on the western
sie of the Bank, Lothbury at its north-western angle, Throgmorton Street, one side
Oivhich is formed by the Bank, and Bartholomew Lane, which is bounded on one
si3 by the whole of the eastern front of the Bank, partake also of the cha-
raer which is peculiar to this neighbourhood, and which differs nearly as
OL. VI. u
290 LONDON.
much from that of the streets of fine shops as the Temple differs from Cheapsid
On each side of Lombard Street, Cornhill, and the other streets y\e have mei
tioned, there are numerous passa<^es, apparently leading to some private hous
hut which, in reality, are busy thoroughfares, along which the passcnge
hurry to and fro with an eagerness peculiar to this part of the City. We ha^
here marked out the district in which the largest monetary and commercial trati
actions of London take place. Here are the Bank and the Hoyal Exchange, tl
Stock Exchange, the great private and Joint-Stock Banks, the offices of tl
bullion, bill and discount brokers, and of the stock and share brokers. Thr
years ago, in pulling down the French church in Threadneedle Street, there w
exposed to view a tesselated pavement, which, at least fourteen centuries ag
had borne the actual tread of Roman feet : and the immediate nei<2:hbourho(
was probably the most opulent part of Roman London.* A greater power thi
the Roman, a power of which the masters of the old world had no conceptio
now reigns supreme on this very spot. As a witty writer remarks — " The wa
like power of every country depends on their Three per Cents. If Csesar we
to re-appear on earth, Wettenhall's List would be more important than 1
Commentaries; Rothschild would open and shut the Temple of Janus; Thorn
Baring, or Bates, would probably command the Tenth Legion ; and the soldit
would march to battle with loud cries of Scrip and Omnium Reduced, Consc
and Caesar." f
Three centuries ago the centre of the money pow^er of Europe was at Antwer]
But, in 1566, Clough, the agent of Sir Thomas Gresham in the Low Countries, e
pressed an opinion that, were proper means taken to create confidence, " there won
be more money found in London than in Andwerpe, whensomever the Queeni
Majesty should have need;'' and in 1570 Gresham proceeded to act upon tl
opinion. Writing to Cecil, he urged upon him the expediency of raising the nec(
sary supply of money for the Queen from her own subjects, " wherebie all oth;
princes male see what a Prince of power she ys." A loan was therefore proposi
to the Merchant- Ad venturers, who referred it to a common hall, where it \v|
negatived by a show of hands, a proceeding not very imprudent, considering t
bad faith of Her Majesty as a borrower of money. Gresham affected to be si
prised at the unwillingness of the merchants, and by dint of persuasion a
remonstrance he was enabled to take up in the City, from eight of the princij
merchants and aldermen, 12,900/., and in the following month, from six othe
82C0L more, to be repaid in six months, with interest at the rate of 12 per cei
per annum. When these sums became due they were renewed on the sai
terms; and as the confidence of the merchants increased loans were afterwai
frequently negotiated between them and the State. This was a great improi
ment on the practice which Elizabeth had been in the habit of resorting to
raising the most paltry sums, which she was accustomed to demand peremptor
of one or other of the City Companies. On one occasion the Ironmongers w(
directed, if unprovided with the amount she required (the large sum of 60/.)^
borrow it for her immediately and pay the interest themselves.
The growth of the National Debt, and with its increase the extraordina
development of the financial capabilities of the country and its high credit, woi
* Vol. I. p. 2£0. t Rev. Sydney Smith.
THE STOCK EXCHANGE. £0[
Lstound the men who lived only a century ago, while to us the wonder is that less
han a century and a half since (in 1/02) the public debt of the nation was
ittle more than sixteen millions sterling. Such a debt as this could now be paid
ffat a day's notice. In 1736 the debt did not exceed fifty millions; in 175G (not
ninety years ago) it amounted to about seventy-four millions; in 1776 (within
he memory of persons living) it was no more than one hundred and thirty-two
liilions. The American war raised it to two hundred and sixty-eight millions ;
nd the first war with France, ending with the Peace of Amiens, increased it to
ix hundred and twenty-two millions. At the conclusion of the Peace in 1815, the
eht was eight hundred and eighty-five millions ; and after nearly thirty years' peace
now exceeds eight hundred millions. In 1792 the entire public expenditure,
icluding the interest of the debt, was under twenty millions ; and, in 1814, for
|iat one year, it exceeded one hundred millions; while from 1806 to 1815 the
verage was above eighty-four millions. The excess of expenditure over income
I these twenty-four years of war was upwards of four hundred and twenty-five
iliions sterling. Large fortunes were made during this period by loans and
ock-jobbing. At the commencement of the great struggle with France nothino-
tuld exceed the energy and spirit of the country. In December, 1796, a loan of
^000,000/. was raised with extraordinary rapidity. Negotiations for peace had
en for some time pending between the British government and the French
irectory. The French authorities seemed to be unwilling to come to terms, and
eir reluctance was supposed in this country to arise from an opinion that the
cuniary resources of England were crippled, or, perhaps, nearly exhausted.
r. Pitt, who was then minister, to show that his power of raising money was as
j,eat as ever, asked for a loan of 18,000,000/. for the service of the ensuing year
797). The plan by which this large sum was to be raised he communicated to
e Bank Directors in the following notice : — " Every person subscribing lOOZ. to
iceive 112Z. in 5 per cent, stock, to be irredeemable, unless with the consent of
lie owner, until the expiration of three years after the present 5 per cents, shall
1 ve been redeemed or reduced, but with the option of the holder to be paid at
|.r, at any shorter period, not less than two years from the conclusion of the
c'finitive treaty of peace. Payment in either case to be made in mone}^ or, at
t|3 option of the holder, in a 3 per cent, stock valued at 75, liable, if wished, to
l| converted for a certain proportion into a life annuity. The first payment on
1,3 13th of January, the second in March, the remaining instalments between
larch and the October following. The receipts not to be issuable till after the
s;ond instalment, or till after 20Z. has been deposited on each KOI. Discount, as
ilLial, on prompt payment." The hopes of the nation were strong that by a great
dmonstration of the unexhausted power of England to continue the war, they
Viuld destroy the unfounded notion of the French Directory, and thus accelerate
tp conclusion of a definitive treaty of peace.
iThe subscription was opened on Thursday, December 1st. The Bank, in its
cjporate capacity, subscribed one million sterling, and each of the directors
iiividually 400,000/. When the books were closed the first day five millions
hi been subscribed, and when they were closed on Friday, the second day,
tl: subscriptions amounted to 11,900,000/. and upwards. The eagerness to sub-
sfibe was not less on the Saturday. On Monday the 5th the country subscrip-
u 2
292 LONDON.
tions were entered first, before the doors were opened, and when this was done
little remained to complete the eighteen millions. The lobby was crowded.
When the doors were opened at ten o'clock as usual, numbers could not get near
the books at all, and many persons called to those who were signing to enter
their names for them. So great and so general was the desire to subscribe, that
the room was a scene of the utmost confusion. At twenty minutes past eleven the
subscription was declared to be full, and great numbers were compelled re-
luctantly to go away without having subscribed. Persons continued to come long
afterwards, and a vast number of orders were sent by post which were too late to
be executed. It is a curious fact that the subscription for this enormous sum was
completed in fifteen hours and twenty minutes, that is, December 1st, two hours;
December 2nd, six hours ; December 3rd, six hours ; December 5th, one hour
and twenty minutes. Most of the corporations in the City (one of which, about
two centuries before, reluctantly raised 60Z. for Queen Elizabeth) subscribed
200,000/., and most of the bankers 50,000/. The loan, from the stimulus of national
excitement under which it was raised, was designated the Loyalty Loan,
The South Sea Bubble created so much prejudice against speculators in the
public securities that, in 1720, the House of Commons passed a vote without
opposition to the effect ^' that nothing can tend more to the establishment of
public credit than preventing the infamous practice of stock -jobbing." A pam-
phlet, published in 1719, entitled ' The Anatomy of Exchange Alley,' shows that
all the ordinary artifices for raising or depressing the prices of stocks by false
rumours were in full practice by the ingenious speculators of that daj^ " If they
meet with a cull, a young dealer that has money to lay out, ihey catch him at the
door, whisper to him, ' Sir, here is a great piece of news; it is not yet public; it
is worth a thousand guineas but to mention it. I am heartily glad I met you, but
let it be as secret as the black side of your soul, for they know nothing of it yet
in the Coffee House; if they should, stock would rise ten per cent, in a moment,
and I warrant you South Sea stock will be at 130/. in a week's time after it is
known.' ' Well,' says the weak creature, ' prithee, dear Tom, what is it T ' Why,
really, sir, I will let you into the secret upon your honour to keep it till you hear
of it from other hands. Why, 't is this ; the Pretender is certainly taken, and is,
carried prisoner to the Castle of Milan.' " The ''cull" is referred to the Secre-|
tary of State's office, and there, according to the pamphlet, a confederate meets
him and gives a pretended confirmation of the rumour. In the end the unwary
man is '' bubbled." At this period the great resort of the speculators was Jona
than's Coffee House, in Change Alley, or " the Alley," as it was called. Iril
1762, an action was brought against the proprietor of Jonathan's for pushing the
plaintiff out of the house; and it being proved that the place had been a market,
time out of mind, for buying and selling Government securities, the jury, under th^
direction of Chief Justice Mansfield, brought in a verdict in the plaintiff's favour
with one shilling damages. As the business of stock -jobbing increased, a more
commodious room was opened in Threadneedle Street, to which, as we are informed,
admission was obtained on payment of sixpence. The Bank Rotunda was, at one
period, the place where bargains in stocks were made. Towards the close of the
last century the increased scale of transactions in the Funds, and the new loans
which were continually being raised, induced the principal frequenters of the
THE STOCK EXCHANGE. 293
ock-market to subscribe for the erection of a building for their accommodation,
apel Court, on the east side of Bartholomew Lane, once the residence of Sir
i^illiam Capel, Lord Mayor in 1504, was fixed upon as a convenient situation for
le purpose. The first stone was laid on the 18th of May, 1801, and contains an
iscription, which states, for the information of remote posterity, that the national
3bt was then upwards of five hundred millions. This buildino-, which is the
L-esent Stock Exchange, was opened in March, 1802. The entrance to Capel
ourt is nearly opposite the door at the east end of the Bank, leading to the room
that building called the Rotunda.
No one is allowed to transact business at the Stock Exchano-e unless he is a
ember. If a stranger unluckily wanders into the place he is quickly hustled
(it. There are about three hundred and fifty firms of stock-brokers in London
hose places of business are situated in the streets, courts, and alleys within five
:inutes' walk of the Royal Exchange. To these we must add thirty or forty
illion, bill, and discount brokers. All the more respectable of these money-
calers are members of the Stock Exchange, and the total number of members is
: present about six hundred and fifty. The admission takes place by ballot,
ad the committee of the Stock Exchange, which consists of twenty-four members,
i elected in the same manner. Every new member of the " house," as it is called,
lust be introduced by three respectable members, each of whom enters into
scurity in 3001. for two years. At the end of two years, when the respectability
( the party is supposed to be fairly ascertained and known, the liability of the
jreties ceases ; but, as each member of the house is re-elected every year, if in
le course of the preceding twelvemonth there is anything discreditable in his
(iiduct, he is not re-elected. If a member becomes a defaulter, he ceases to
1 a member ; though, after inquiry, he may be re-admitted on pa3ring a cer-
tin composition; but he must be re-admitted, if at all, by vote of the committee.
^ hen a member becomes unable to pay his creditors there are certain official
fsignees who receive all the money due to him and divide it amongst his creditors.
Id man can be re-admitted unless he pays 6^. 8cL in the pound, from resources
c his own, over and above what has been collected from his debtors. As some
c the practices of the Stock Exchange are contrary to law, and cannot be enforced
i the courts, the members are only to be held to them by a sense of honour, and
si'h restraints in the way of exposure and degradation as the governing com-
1 ttee may be authorised to apply by the general body of members. Cases of
c;honourable or disgraceful conduct are punished by expulsion. The names of
dfaulters are posted on the '' black board," and, in the language of the Stock
Lchange, they are then technically called *^ lame ducks." In short, the com-
nttee have the power of effectually destroying the credit of a member whose
t nsactions are of a dishonourable nature. They investigate the conduct of
rmbers whenever called upon by other parties, and give their award according
tthe evidence.
The two leading classes of men who have dealings on the Stock Exchange are
t.; jobbers and the brokers, though the business peculiar to each is not unfre-
qently transacted by one person. Some members deal for the most part in
I.glish stocks, others in foreign, and many confine their attention principally to
sKres in mines, railways, canals, joint-stock banks, and other public companies;
294 LOx\DON.
some call themselves discount- brokers and money-dealers, and transact business
to a large extent in commercial securities — that is, in bills drawn b}^ merchant'
and tradesmen on mercantile transactions. Bargains are made in the presence ol
a third party, and the terms "are simply entered in a pocket-book; but they arc
checked next day, and the jobber's clerk (their clerks are members also of the
house) pays or receives the money, and sees that the securities are correct. There
are but three or four dealers in Exchequer Bills, and the greater number of these
securities pass through their hands. The majority of the members of the Stock Ex-
change employ their capital in any way which offers the slightest chance of profit,
and keep it in convertible securities, so that it can be changed from hand to han(i
almost at a moment's notice. The brokers are emplo3^ed to execute the orders o!
bankers, merchants, capitalists, and private individuals ; and the jobbers or
'Change are the parties with whom they deal. When the broker appears in the
market he is surrounded by the jobbers. One of the " cries " of the Stock Exchange
is " Borrow money ? borrow money ?" a singular one to general apprehension
but it must be understood that the credit of the borrower must either be first-rate
or his security of the most satisfactory nature; and that it is not the principa
who goes into this market, but his broker. '' Have you money to lend to-day ?'
is a question asked with a nonchalance which w^ould astonish the simple man whej
goes to a " friend " with such a question in his mouth. " Yes," may be the reply
*• I want 1 0,000Z. or 20,000/." " On what security ?" for that is the vital question
and that point being settled, the transaction goes on smoothly and quickly enough!
Another mode of doing business is to conceal the object of the borrower or lender
who asks, '' What are Exchequer ?" The ansv/er may be, '' Forty to forty-two.
That is, the party addressed will buy 1000/. at 40^., and sell 1000/. at 42^. TIk
jobbers cluster around the broker, who perhaps says, '' I must have a price ii
5000/." If it suits them they will say, " Five with me, five with me, five with mc,'
making fifteen ; or they v»'ill say each, '^^Ten with me ;" and it is the broker's busi
ness to get these parties pledged to buy of him at 40, or to sell to him at 42, thej
not knowing whether he is a buyer or seller. The broker then declares his purpose
saying, for example, *' Gentlemen, I sell to you 20,000/. at 40 ;" and the sum is thei
apportioned among them. If the money were wanted only for a month, and tb
Exchequer market remained the same during that time, the buyer would have t<
give 42 in the market for what he sold at 40, being the difference between the buy
ing and the selling price; besides which he would have to pay the broker 1^. pe
cent, commission on the sale, and \s. per cent, on the purchase again on the bills
which would make altogether As. per cent. If the object of the broker be to bu;
Consols, the jobber offers to buy his 20,000/. at 96, or to sell him that amount a
96|, without being at all aware which he is engaging himself to do. The sam
person may not know on any particular day whetlier he will be a borrowc
or lender. If he has sold stock and has not repurchased, about one o
two o'clock in the day he would be a lender of money ; but if he has bough
stock, and not sold, he would be a borrower. Immense sums are lent o:
condition of being recalled at the short notice of a few hours. These loan
are often for so short a period, that the uninitiated, who have no other ide
of borrowing than that which the old proverb supplies, that " He who goc
a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing," would wonder that any man should borrow
I THE STOCK EXCHANGE. 295
10,000/. or 20,000/. for a da}^ or at most a fortnight, and which is liable to Lc
called for at the shortest notice. The facilities which the Stock Exchange affords
for the easy flow of capital in any direction where profit is to be secured will
explain the mystery. The directors of a railway company, whose receipts are
12,000/. or 14,000/. per week, instead of locking up this sum every week in their
strong-box, as a premium for the ingenuity of the London thieves, authorise a
l)roker to lend it on proper securities. Persons who pay large duties to govern -
nent at fixed periods, and are in receipt of these duties from the time of their
ust payment, make something of the gradually accumulating sum by lending it
\,T a week or two. A person whose capital is intended to be laid out in mort^-age
m real property finds it advantageous to lend it out until he meets with a suit-
ible oifer. The great bankers have constantly large sums which are not required
or their till, and they direct their brokers to lend this surplus cash on the Stock
iCxchange. One banker lends about 400,000/. to the jobbers on every settling day.
jankers are also borrowers at times, as well as lenders. The Bank of England
ometimes, and also the East India Company, employ their brokers to raise money
)n the Stock Exchange. Some members of the Stock Exchange call themselves,
ppropriately enough, '' managers of balances." Whatever the market rate of
nterest may be, it is more advantageous to a capitalist to employ his resources
1 the smallest rate of profit rather than that it should remain idle. Sometimes
he jobber, at the close of the day, will lend his money at 1 per cent, rather than
lot employ it at all. But the extraordinary fluctuations in the rate of interest,
ven in the course of a single day, are a sufficient temptation to the rnoney-
ender to resort to the Stock Exchange. During the shutting of the stocks
aoney is invariably scarce ; but as soon as the dividends become payable, it is
gain abundant. At other times, on one day the rate of interest will be 10 per
ent, and the next day only 2. The rate of interest offered in the morning will
,lso frequently diff'er from that which can be obtained in the afternoon. Instances
ave occurred in which every body has been anxious to lend money in the
orning at 4 per cent., when about two o'clock money has become so scarce that
could with difl^culty be borrowed at 10 per cent. For example, if the price of
onsols be low, persons who are desirous of raising money will give a high rate
f interest rather than sell stock. Again, an individual wants to borrow 110,000/.
!n Consols, but they happen to be in great demand, and the jobber may borrow
n them at 2 per cent., and lend the very same money on another description of
overnment security at 5 per cent. The constant recurrence of these oppor-
nities of turning capital is of course the life and soul of the Stock Exchange.
The profit of the jobber, after he has concluded a bargain, depends upon the
te of the market, which may be depressed by extensive sales, or by the compe-
ion of buyers. These jobbers are middle men, who are always ready either to
y or sell at a minute's notice, and hence a broker, in dealing for his principal,
ho wants to borrow mone}^ has no need to hunt after another broker, who has
oney of another principal to lend, but each resort to the jobber, who is both a
rrower and lender. The following information as to the extent of the transac-
>iis of a firm of stock-brokers, or, perhaps, more properly speaking, of money-
alers, or, to use the technical phrase, *^ managers of balances," is official, and
ay be fully relied on :-~'^ Our business, in addition to that of mere stock-brokers.
jfcii-
296 LONDON.
extends to the dealing in money, that is, borrowing of bankers, capitalists, and
others, their surplus or unemployed moneys, for the purpose of lending again at
advanced rates, the difference of rate being our remuneration for the trouble and
risk attendant thereon. By the general facility thus afforded, from our being
almost always ready either to borrow or lend, we have become, as it were, a
channel directly or indirectly for a great portion of the loans between Lombard
Street and the Stock Exchange ; and the magnitude of our money-dealings will
be at once understood when I state that we have both had and made loans to
upwards of 200,000/. at a time with one house ; that the payments and receipts
through our banking account on each side amount to eighteen or twenty millions
per annum, but our loan transactions far exceed that sum, and extend to the vast
amount of from thirty to forty millions a-year. Our loans for the year ending
October, 1841, exceeded thirty millions, being an average of three millions a-month,
or 100,OOOZ. a- day ; and generally, upon four or five days in every month, the
loans have amounted to 150, 2, 3, 4, 5, and even 700,000/. in a single day."
Notwithstanding the magnitude of the business created by the national debt,
amounting to 800,000,000/., and an income of 50,000,000/. a-ycar from the taxes,
an annual circulation of Bills of Exchange amounting to between 500,000,000/.
and 600,000,000/., a circulation of Bank notes of 35,000,000/., the perpetual
transfer of shares in Railways, in which capital to the amount of above sixty
millions has been embarked, besides the traffic in shares in canals, banks, insurance
offices, and public companies, and in the foreign funds, the gentlemen of the Stock
Exchange would scarcely find sufficient employment, if all the transactions which
take place there were absolutely of a honajide character, and led in every case to
an actual transfer of the property which was the object of speculation. '* Time-
bargains" fill up their leisure, and the excitement which attends such transac-
tions is rather agreeable than otherwise to those who are accustomed to the
atmosphere of the Stock Exchange. The origin of these transactions was legiti-
mate enough. At certain periods, which occur half-yearly, the transfer-books
at the Bank are '^ shut" for several weeks, in order to afford time for the pre-
paration of the dividend warrants. During this interval a person who buys or
sells stock must necessarily do so speculatively, " for the opening," that is, fori
transfer on the day on which the transfer-books are re-opened. These half-yearly
opportunities for speculative transactions were not sufficient to gratify the desire for
" doing business" which prevails amongst speculators, and, accordingly, periodical
dates have been fixed upon by the Committee of the Stock Exchange similar to the
*' opening," at intervals of about six weeks, making altogether about eight settling
days, as they are called, in the course of the year, two of these " settling days''
corresponding with the first days of the opening of the Bank books for public
transfer. The price at which stock is sold to be transferred on the next settling
day is called the price " on account." A party engages to sell to another for
a certain sum a certain amount of stock on the next '' settling day," the calcula-
tion of the seller being that by the day in question the market-price of stock
will be lower than the price agreed upon; that of the buyer, that it will be
higher. The matter, however, instead of being arranged by an actual transfer of
stock, is settled simply by the losing party paying the " difference," that is, the
seller, in case of the price on the '' settling day" turning out to be below that
THE STOCK EXCHANGE. 297
I stipulated for, gains by the difference between the two sums, and the buyer
loses; but, if the price rises above that stipulated for, exactly the reverse would
happen. The whole transaction is founded on the anticipation of a rise by one
party and a fall by the other, and is, in fact, essentially a bet. The amount of
the bet which is won and lost is the difference between the price agreed upon
I and the actual selling price. These bargains are illegal, and cannot be enforced
i by law. The jobbers, therefore, depend upon each others honour. The terms
'' Bull " and " Bear," which are^ familiar to every reader of a newspaper, are
, used, the former to designate those who speculate for a rise, and the latter for
those who endeavour to effect a fall in prices, as the bull tosses the objects of its
I attack in the air, and the bear endeavours to trample it under foot. The '' Bull"
who buys 50,000/. Consols for the settling day, or " for the account," as it is
technically called, endeavours to sell them again in the interval at a higher price ;
j and, on the other hand, the " Bear " would endeavour to sell the 50,000/. (which,
nevertheless, he does not possess, as no transfer actually takes place) *' for the
account," with a view of buying them in for the purpose of balancing the transac-
tion at a lower price than he originally sold them at. Wars and rumours of wars,
favourable turns of the public fortune, every circumstance which can affect the
most sensitive of political barometers, re-acts upon the interests of either the
speculator for a rise or a fall in the public funds. When the account is not
closed on the settling day the stock is carried on to a future day, on such terms
as the parties may agree on. This is called a " continuation," which is nothing
more than interest for money lent on security of stock, which fluctuates in the
most agreeable manner for a speculator, according to the scarcity or abundance
of money. Operating upon the " continuation" is a favourite mode of specula-
tion amongst those who can command large capitals, and the foreign stocks offer
I the most tempting inducements to this kind of enterprise, as they are subject to
greater fluctuation than the English stocks ; and though the security is not so
good, the rate of interest is higher, being sometimes equal to 15 per cent, per
annum.
Of all the means of making a fortune none is so rapid as speculation in the
Funds, — if good fortune do but smile on the speculator, nor any more uncertain.
No Stock Exchange in Europe affords such facilities for speculation as that of
London, for the dealings are not confined to English Government Securities, but
embrace every description of transferable security, shares in Kailways, Mines,
Canals, Insurance Companies, Joint-Stock Banks, and indeed all property, the
sign of which can be passed from hand to hand, besides including every description
of foreign Funds. The foreign capitalist is attracted from every capital in Europe
to the English Stock Exchange, and the Jews flock to it from every quarter under
heaven. One of the most naive productions we have seen for a long time is the
letter of a Jew of Mogadore, who wished his friends to provide him with the
means of going on the London Stock Exchange, where he was certain of making a
'' fortune." The letter, which reads almost as if it were written by the ' Turkish
Spy,' was produced in evidence in the Bankruptcy Court, dated London, October,
1841, and is as follows :— " Unfortunately at present there is little business to be
done without a large capital to speculate with. Now I am much inclined, and am
encouraged to hope making my fortune in the public Funds, for you are aware that
298 LONDON.
loans are negotiated here for all nations, and the value of each nation's ' Funds'
is regulated by its credit, so that the prices rise and fall according to the intelli-
gence which arrives. The Governments of Europe are not like that of our
Emperor [of Morocco], who has sacks full of doubloons buried under ground, for
they are poor, and indebted to the public. The English Government are in-
debted to the public eight hundred millions sterling, which are 4,000 milUon
dollars ! and all this capital is in the Funds, and bought and sold transactions are
in it daily effected, so that one may make a fortune in a few days, as many have
done, for the riches of K and M were all acquired in the Funds; there-
fore I am urging my dear Judah to become guarantee for me with a broker wh*o
deals in this business, and I have a friend who is named Moses Abitbol, of Mo"-a-
dore, a man of great sagacity, who understands this business, and is skilful in
Government matters; he has been in London more than thirty years, and he is
desirous of placing me in this business; but as I am not known, and my dear
Judah is very well known, Abitbol tells me that I must ask my dear Judah to
be answerable for me, and then he will assist me and put me in the way how to
act. Now I have already spoken to Judah, who tells me ^ he is unwilling to enter
into matters which are foreign to his business,' and that ''it is not creditable for
a merchant to negotiate in the Funds,' and he 'does not wish to have too much
to think of.' That it will be better to import articles from places and gain four
pounds or five pounds at a time, than to run risks, as I might perhaps lose.
Pray, therefore, write to him in my behalf, and request him to assist me in this
matter, as I can assure you that I am confident, with the blessing of God and the
assistance of this Mr. Abitbol, to make my fortune. I read the newspapers every
day, as I understand the English language, and see by them that from one week
to another the public Funds rise 5 per cent., and I am acquainted with every-
thing about them, and what I ask of my dear Judah to be responsible for me is
no great thing — the utmost will be 401. or 50L, as I am not going to risk any-
thing which might turn out very detrimental, and, with the Divine aid, 200/.
may be gained with 50/., so Mr. Abitbol tells me, who likewise says that I may
gain 500/. a-3'ear. I am in hopes that if joii will write and request my dear
Judah he will do the needful out of respect for you, and I beg that you will not
lose any time so soon as you receive this." We have heard of one firm of stock-
jobbers, or rather money-dealers, who w^ould have made 20,000/. a-year on their
transactions at lO^y. per cent. Money-jobbers would, in fact, grow rich if they
were sure of realising one-eighth per cent, on all their transactions, that is only
2^. 6d. per 100/. ; but the way to wealth is not so easy. After having concluded
a bargain the market changes, and the speculator may '^ realise " a loss on the
transaction. The Mogadore Jew would not find it so easy to gain 200/. v/ith a
capital of 50/. There is no doubt, however, that large fortunes have been gained
on the Stock Exchange by persons who have begun with transactions on the
humblest scale ; but then how many large fortunes have been lost ! Apparently,
however, the life of a member of the Stock Exchange would seem to be one of
continual excitement. He rushes up from Brighton by the Express Train in an
hour and a half, transacts his business, and leaves town again for the coast soon
after four o'clock, having, it may be, netted some hundreds of pounds by his clear-
headed speculations, or by a fortunate turn in the chapter of accidents. Some of
THE STOCK EXCHANGE. 299
the prettiest villas all round the metropolis arc inhabited Ly members of the Stock
Exchange, Avho here may tranquillise their nerves in the long- summer eveninirs
by- those pursuits \Yhich seem so congenial to the happy-looldno- sriot.
It would scarcely be possible to arrange under any number of <'-eneral heads
all the "skyey influences" that are capable of elevating or dcprcssino- the
Funds, which fluctuate with every breeze of popular exhilaration or nervous
despondency, every fit of suspicion or confidence, every hope and fear, almost
every hope, passion, or caprice of the human breast. In 1797 the prospects of
this countr}^ owing to the successes of the French, the mutiny in the fleet,
and other adverse circumstances, were so unfavourable, that the price of the
Three per Cents, sunk on the 20Lh of September, on the intelligence transpir-
ing of an attempt to negotiate with the French Republic having failed, to 47^,
being the lowest price to which they have ever fallen. The same Stock is now at
96. Such events as the battle of Leipsig, the escape of Napoleon from Elba, the
battle of Waterloo, which influenced the hopes and fears of mankind throughout
the civilized world, are not likely to occur in these times, and we must content
ourselves with a more prosaic life.
During the war many frauds w^ere practised on the Stock Exchange, under
various forms of false intelligence ; but one of the most daring, complicated, and
complete, was executed in February, 1814. The parties implicated in this
transaction were Sir Thomas Cochrane (commonly called Lord Cochrane), Andrew
Cochrane Johnstone (his uncle), Charles Random de Berenger, Richard Gathornc
Butt, John Peter HoUoway, Henry Lyte, Ralph Sandom, and Alexander M'Rae.
Lord Cochrane, the present Earl of Dundonald, had recently been appointed
to the command of a ship of war, and was Member of Parliament for West-
minster. Johnstone was Member of Parliament for Grampound. Butt had
been formerly a clerk in the Navy-OfTice. HoUoway was a w^ine-merchant in
London. Sandom was a spirit-merchant at Northfleet, near Gravcsend, but was
then in the Rules of the King's Bench. De Berenger, the main agent in execut-
ing the plot, was a foreigner who had long resided in this country, and for the
previous fourteen or fifteen months had been in the Rules of the King's Bench.
Lyte was a small navy-agent. M'Raew^as a man in distressed circumstances, who
resided at 61, Fetter Lane.
The series of extraordinary military operations by which Bonaparte, in January
and February, 1814, kept the allied armies in check had a very depressing effect
on the Funds. This country was in a state of the greatest anxiety, and the
intelligence of the battle of Montmirail, which was received in London on the
17th of February, reduced Omnium to 27^, which, before the opening of the
campaign in January, had been as high as 30.
The plot of this imposture, there is little doubt, originated with Johnstone,
Butt, and HoUoway. Lord Cochrane was implicated, perhaps unconsciously, as
he always affirmed. The rest were employed as performers. Of these the prin-
cipal was De Berenger, and he performed the first and chief part of the plot
himself The subsidiary part was left to Sandom, Lyte, and M'Rae, whose imme-
diate employer was HoUoway.
Johnstone and Butt commenced their speculations in the stocks on the 8th of
February; Lord Cochrane on the J2lh. HoUoway had long been a speculator
300 LONDON.
in the Funds. On the Saturday preceding the Monday on which the fraud was
executed these individuals possessed stocks as follows : —
Andrew Cochrane Johnstone . . £141,000 Omnium.
100,000 Consols.
Richard Gathorne Butt
John Peter Hollow ay
}> )» >y
Lord Cochrane
224,000 Omnium.
168,000 Consols.
20,000 Omnium.
34,000 Consols.
139,000 Omnium.
£826,000
The necessary preparations had been made, and everything was now in readiness.
The performance commenced a little after midnight at Dover. A person knocked
violently at the door of the ' Ship Hotel.' He was admitted. He was dressed in
a grey military great coat, a scarlet uniform richly embroideredVith gold lace
(like a staff-officer), a star on his breast, a silver medal suspended from his neck,
a dark fur cap with a broad band of gold lace, and a small portmanteau. This
was De Berenger, in the assumed character of Lieut- Col. Du Bourg, aide-de-
camp of Lord Cathcart, just arrived from Paris, and the bearer of the glorious
news that a decisive victory had been gained, that Bonaparte had been killed, and
that the allied armies were then actually in Paris. With the appearance of great
haste and excitement he wrote the following letter : —
'' To the Rt. Hon. T. Foley, Port Admiral, Deal.
•"Sir — I have the honour to acquaint you that 'TAigle,' from Calais, Pierre
Duquin, master, has this moment landed me near Dover, to proceed to the capital
with dispatches of the happiest nature. I have pledged my honour that no harm
shall come to the crew of 'I'Aigle.' Even with a flag of truce, they immediately
stood for sea. Should they be taken, I entreat you immediately to liberate them.
My anxiety will not allow me to say more for your gratification than that the
allies obtained a final victory ; that Bonaparte was overtaken by a party of
Sachen's Cossacks, who immediately slaid him and divided his body between
them. General Platoff saved Paris from being reduced to ashes. The allied
sovereigns are there, and the white cockade is universal. An immediate peace
is certain. In the utmost haste I entreat your consideration,*' &c. Signed, ''R.
Du Bourg, Lieut.-Col., and Aide -de-Camp to Lord Cathcart."
A special messenger was immediately dispatched with this letter to the Port
Admiral at Deal, in the expectation that he would have communicated the news
by telegraph to the Government in London. The letter was delivered between
three and four o'clock. The morning, however, happened to be hazy, the tele-
graph could not be worked, and this part of the plot therefore entirely failed.
Meantime, De Berenger ordered a post-chaise to be got ready without delay.
He offered to pay with napoleons, which the landlord scrupled to take, and he then
took out some one-pound notes, paid his bill, and started for London. When he
changed horses at Canterbury, Sittingbourne, Rochester, Dartford, he spread the
news, and when he dismissed the post-boys rewarded each of them with a napoleon.
When he arrived at Bexley Heath he learned from the post-boys that the tele-
graph could not have been worked, and then told them that they need not drive so
THE STOCK EXCHANGE.
301
a
fast. The boys walked by tlie side of their horses up Shooter's Hill, and De
Berenger then informed them that the French were beaten, that Bonaparte was
killed, and that the Cossacks had actually torn his body in pieces, and had contended
for the parts. He stopped at the Marsh Gate, in Lambeth, got out, entered
hackney coach, and gave each of the post-boys a napoleon, who drove off rejoicing
to spread the news as they went. This was about nine o'clock on Monday mornino-.
De Berenger was driven in the hackney-coach to No. 13, Green Street West-
minster, where Lord Cochrane resided, in furnished apartments which he had
taken three days previously.
The news reached the Stock Exchange a little after ten, either through the
post-boys, or by express sent up from Dover or some of the towns where De Be-
renger had changed horses. The price of Omnium had commenced at 27^ ex-
tremely flat ; but when it was communicated that an officer had come from Paris,
arrived at Dover, and reached London in a post-chaise and four, bearing
dispatches for Government, Omnium rose to 28, 28^, 29, 30. No communication
having been made from the Secretary of State to the Lord Mayor, at twelve
doubts began to be entertained, and the funds fell to 29.
The auxiliary plot now came into operation. Between twelve and one a post-
chaise and four drove over London Bridge, and made a sort of triumphal pro-
cession through the City. There were three persons in it, two of them dressed
like French officers, in blue great-coats with white linings, and having white
cockades. The horses were decorated with laurel. Small billets were scattered
as they proceeded. They passed over Blackfriars Bridge, and then drove rapidly
to the Marsh Gate, where the three persons got out, folded up their cocked hats,
put on round ones, and walked awa)^ The post-chaise drove rapidly back down
the Kent Road.
The funds now rose from 29 to 30, 31, 32, 32^, 33; but persons having been
sent to the office of the Secretary of State, and it having been found that no
messenger had arrived there, the deception was discovered, and the funds fell to
their original level. Large sales, however, had been made, and the whole of the
826,000/. which had been bought by Johnstone, Butt, HoUoway, and Lord
Cochrane, had been sold.
The members of the Stock Exchange, who had been thus defrauded, appointed
a committee, by whom it was discovered that the second post chaise had been
brought from Dartford early in the morning, and had started from Northfleet
with four post-horses, bearing Sandom, Lyte, and M'R-ae.
It was ascertained that De Berenger, who was the chief agent, was paid a large
sum. He was arrested at Leith as he was on the point of leaving this country.
His military coat was accidentally fished up from the Thames, in which he had
sunk it. Johnstone escaped to the Continent. M^Rae received 50/. It was also
proved in evidence on the trial, that he brought into his lodgings in Fetter Lane
on Saturday, February 19, a couple of great coats, blue lined with white; he
had white cockades made up by his wife ; and, in reply to inquiries as to the use
to which the coats and cockades were to be applied, he said, they were " to take
in the flats." He quitted his lodgings in the afternoon of Sunday, stating that
he was going down the river to Gravesend, and he returned about two o'clock on
Monday, after having got out of the post-chaise at the Marsh Gate.
i
302 LONDON.
The profit on the sales of stocL' was ascertained to have amounted to about
10,000/. If the telegraph had worked, so as to have ensured a communication
from the Government to the Lord Ma3'or, the profit would probably have been
not less than 100,000/. The sales were mostly made by Mr. Fearn, a stock-
broker. Butt was aclive manager ; but Johnstone was at the office, which he
had taken on purpose, and which was just by the side -door of the Stock
Exchange.
The trial came on June 21, 1814, at the Court of King's Bench, Guildhall,
before Lord EUenborough. Gurney was the leading counsel for the prosecution
and the prisoners were severally defended by the first lawyers of the day,
Brougham, Dcnman, and others.
All the prisoners were found guilty, and they were all sentenced to twelve
months' imprisonment in the Marshalsea. In addition to this. Lord Cochrane and
Butt were fined 1000/. each, and HoUoway 500/. Lord Cochrane, De Berenger,
and Butt were also sentenced to stand one hour in the pillory, in front of the
Royal Exchange. The matter, however, was taken up in Parliament, and this
ignominious part of the sentence was remitted.
The effect of the great panic of 18*25 upon the public funds was more astound-
ing than the news of Napoleon's escape from Elba. In January, 1825, the Three
per Cents, were above 93, and twelve months afterwards they were under 80. A
brief account of this "Panic" has been already given.* The daily newspapers
commenced giving at this period an article under the head of '^ Money Market,'
which is now an indispensable feature in every newspaper, daily or weekly. In
1815 the ' Courier' newspaper did not even give the price of stocks.
Perhaps the next circumstance in point of interest connected with the money
market, in the last twenty years, was the extraordinary forgery of Exchequer
Bills by Beaumont Smith, discovered in October, 1841. This case is remarkable
not only for the large amount of money obtained, but for' the length of time
during which it escaped detection, that is, from the spring of 1836 to the middle
of bS41.
Beaumont Smith was the senior clerk in the Issuing Office of the Exchequer.
His confederate was Ernest Rapallo, a foreigner who had been long resident in
this country. This fraud related exclusively to the species of Exchequer Bills
called Supply Bills, which are issued from the Exchequer under authority of
successive acts of Parliament. The periods of issue are March and June, and
each bill is either paid off or exchanged, at the option of the holder, at the office
of the Paymaster of the Exchequer, after the expiration of a year. There are
therefore two exchanges of Exchequer Bills every year— in March and June.
The bills have a blank left for the name of the payee, which, however, is rarely
filled up, and they pass, like a bank note, by mere delivery; they are numbered,
in each successive issue, in regular progression, and are signed with the name of
the Comptroller-General of the Exchequer, but in practice the signature was
generally made by the Deputy-Comptroller. As a check to forgery, they are cut
from a counterfoil, by comparison with which their genuineness may be ascertained.
The number of these forged bills was 377> and they were generally made out fur
* Vol. Iv., p. 17.
THE STOCK EXCHANGE.
:03
the sum of lOOOZ. In paper, stamp, and every other particular, they were jrenulne,
with the exception only of the signature, which was an imitation of tha^t of the'
Deputy Comptroller-General. Each of the forged bills was a duplicate of a
genuine bill ; so that suspicion was only likely to arise in the case of two of the
same number coming into the hands of the same person. All the for^rcd bills
emanated from Smith, and were passed through Rapallo.
In raising m.oney on these instruments it was essential to abstain from sale ;
for, if thus brought into general circulation, there would not only be a great pro-
bability of duplicates falling into the hands of the same person, but a certainty of
being carried at the regular periods of exchange to the office of the Paymaster,
where the duplicates would of course come also, and thus infallibly lead to de-
tection. Besides this, there is a great advantage in borrowing money on bil's
rather than selling the bills and replacing them by purchase. Suppose a banker
requires to use his money for a week, if he sells those bills, and at the end of the
week repurchases them, he has to pay broker's commission, which is a shillino- on
100/. bill (if he is a banker he has to pay half) ; and he also has to pay the
difference between buying and selling prices, which generally is two shillings
per cent., which would make a loss in the week's work, selling those bills and
replacing them, of three shillings on every lOOZ. bill ; whereas, if he came u])on
the Stock Exchange, and borrowed the money even at five per cent., which is a
higher rate of interest than that on Exchequer Bills (five per cent, is threepence
farthing a day, and he receives upon the Exchequer Bills twopence farthing from
the Government), his loss during the week is a penny a day, making sevenpence
for the week ; whereas if he sells and repurchases the bills it is three shillinfrs.
That is the reason why many bankers bring their bills into the market, and
borrow upon them, instead of selling. The plan adopted by Smith and Rapallo,
in every case, was to raise the money upon loan, and before the next ] eriod of
exchange came round to redeem it by payment of the monej^ or to exchange it
for another bill of more recent date. This method rendered it necessary to repay
in every case the money advanced, as well as to pay the interest due upon the
[loan; but the opportunity which it afforded of employing large sums of money
in extensive speculations in the stock market probably flattered the confederates
with the hope of realizing large fortunes as the result.
In carrying the plan into effect, the mode of operation was the following: at
[the commencement of the transactions, and for some years afterwards, llapallo
delivered over the bills which he received from Smith to Angelo Solari, another
foreigner, resident in this country, between whom and Rapallo there had previously
been a connection ; and Solari raised money upon the bills. This service he
effected in part through connections formed by the assistance of Messrs. William
and James Morgan, stock-brokers. They introduced him to the banking-houses
of Ransom and Co., and Jones Lloyd and Co. From the former he obtained
from time to time large sums of money on the deposit of the forged bills. He
also obtained similar loans from Price and Co. Messrs. W. and J. Morgan like-
[wise received from Solari the forged bills ; and on the deposit of these, in their own
Inames, as the apparent borrowers, they obtained large sums of money, out of
which, according to the directions of Solari, they purchased for him foreign
.i4_.
304 LONDON.
bonds or shares, or paid losses incurred by him in the stock-market. They also,
from time to time, paid over to him large sums of money, and paid off the prin-
cipal and interest which became due on the loans ; and received from him, on the
other hand, large sums, and sold foreign bonds, and so on, charging the usual
commission.
These dealings lasted till the death of Solari, in October, 1840, when Hapallo
continued them as the agent of Solari's widow. Solari and Rapallo carried on
similar dealings with Mr. William Mariner, who was then secretary to the National
Brazilian Mining Company. Mr. Mariner employed as his stock-broker Mr. F.
T. De Berckhem. The advances procured from Messrs. Morgan amounted to
about 420,000/. ; from Mariner and De Berckhem to about 465,000/.
At length the discovery w^as made. On the 19th of October, 1S41, De Berckhem
employed a person to borrow 10,000/. for him on the deposit of Exchequer Bills
for three months, at 6 per cent. The application happened to be made to a
member of the Stock Exchange, who had just lent money on a similar deposit at
4 per cent., and this appeared in all its circumstances so remarkable that he
deemed it right to enter into communication with the Chancellor of the Exchequer.
Other bills were then obtained from De Berckhem, and on comparison with the
counterfoils, the whole were found to be forged. Smith was taken into custody
on the 25th of October; and the fraud then became known to the public.
#
[Tovmiiuis of the Blackwill Railway.] ,
CXLV.— RAILWAY TERMINI.
the course of our work we have had frequent occasion to illustrate the general
[agnitude of the metropolis, and of all that belongs to it — as, for instance, in its
ighty underground systems; its docks, banks, and markets; its size — its popu-
ion ; but all these together hardly give so vivid an idea of what London truly
as is furnished by its Railway Termini — those gates of the world through
lich we have onl}^ to pass, put on our wishing (or travelling) cap, which we take
be suggestive, in Fortunatus' case as well as in our own, of a short nap, and
e thing is done ; we are presently either roaming among the sublime mountains
Wales or Northumbria, following with antiquarian interest the route of Henry
e Fifth's invading French army, via Southampton, looking for the samphire on
lakspere's cliff at Dover ; or, if we are in a great hurry, whirling away on
e other side of the Channel to Paris or Cologne, towards Italy or Vienna, towards
beria or Timbuctoo. And apparently, before many years, all destinations will
- about the same as regards the hours occupied — your only modern mode of
9asuring — or as regards the comfort and safety with which they may be reached.
)r, seriously, it would be as idle to sit down now satisfied that travelling has
lached its climax, as it would have been when the first of those excellent coaches
VOL. VI, X
306 LONDON.
started which reached York from London in a week, God willino:. One's health,
no doubt;, requires that there should be a little interval between shaking hands
with friends at parting in London, and doing the same with others on meeting at
Brighton; but really the amount of that interval promises to depend upon some
such considerations only. But of this subject we shall have to say a few words
by and bye. And now, as to our metropolitan termini. They are ten in number :
namely, the London and Birmingham, 1833 (date of Act for the establishment) ;
the Greenwich, 1833; the South Western or Southampton, 1834 ; the Great West-
ern to Bath and Bristol, 1835; the Croydon, 1835; the South Eastern and Dover,
1836 ; the Northern and Eastern, 1836; the Eastern Counties, 1836; the Black-
wall, 1836; and the Brighton, 1837 ; the whole erected at a cost of above twenty-
seven millions of money. The streets of London may not be paved with gold, as
no doubt, many of our readers can remember once thinking they were, when youth
and distance alike lent enchantment to the view, but certainly the roads leading to
London seem to have been founded upon that metal. And, if there is somethino-
suggestive of almost Oriental visions of wealth and profusion in such an expen-
diture, there is not the less a decidedly British character of reality about the
results. On the Birmingham line, for instance, every 100/. expended is now
worth 240Z. ! The annual income of the Company is fast advancing towards a
million (in the year just ended it was above 830,0C!u/.) ! whilst the aggregate
of the mere duties paid to Government by the ten lines, in the same time, was
above 82,000/. ! It can be hardly necessary to say one word more as to the
gigantic commercial character of the metropolitan railways.
But this is, after all, the least important and interesting of their features ; the
revolution they have wrought in our locomotive capabilities sinks into compara-
tive insignificance when we contemplate the revolution they must yet work in
mental and moral phenomena — blending together more and more intimately all
countries and peoples, all religions, philosophies, feelings, tastes, customs and
manners, through the agency of the great social harmoniser, personal converse.
We shall hardly be able to speak much longer of mere visitors to and from
London, but of London going to see the country, the country coming to see
London — of London running over to inquire how all goes on in Paris, Paris
returning the compliment in the same way : already we perceive six hours is the
allotted time for passing from London to Boulogne ; we do not despair of seeing
Paris reached in less than twice that period. Through a great portion of Europe
the same kind of communications are preparing ; and we may, in short, almost
anticipate the time when we shall make as little fuss about the tour of the world
as of a tour through the Isle of Wight ; when we shall talk of London, Paris,
Vienna, Madrid, and so on, as of so many stages for refreshment — a little longer,
certainly, than those of a stage coach, but still more nearly akin to them than to
anything else. Seeing all this, one can almost excuse the enthusiasm gene-
rated in some minds b}^ the subject, and which has led a recent writer mto
an attempt to explain, by the system of railroads, the mystical Vision of the
Chariot by the prophet Ezekiel, and other Scripture passages, which, he says,
*' have reference to railroads and railway conveyance by locomotive carriages;
and the more the form and construction of the powerful engine, in connection
RAILWAY TERMINI. 307
iwith the carriages, are carefully and minutely examined, and compared with
1 effects, the more opinion strengthens, and conviction confirms the truth, that
it is altogether of Divine origin, and little short of a miracle, that after the lapse
of so many ages .... the description of it should be handed down to us
[in the nineteenth century, in language so appropriate, so true, intelli^-ible and
descriptive, that it is impossible to mistake its meaning; for althouo-h Ezekicl
saw four living creatures (destined for the four quarters of the globe, 'in the
fulness of time '), he shows clearly their component parts were of iron and burnished
brass, containing inwardly, fire, without consuming itself — 'fire of coals,' suffi-
:iently large and active to send upwards a lengthened wreath upon wreath of
crystal- coloured cloud, and their centre to be of burnished brass, sparklin^r, as
.vith lightning speed they winged their way, emitting sparks as from forged iron,
nstinct with a vital spirit, unknown till steam, and its powerful effects, were disclosed
0 man, by the manifold wisdom of God; the force of the steam escaping, panting
,s with the breath of life, is accurately described by the prophet, and the beau-
iful confusion of ideas, to give expression to the extraordinary sounds applicable
o what he saw and heard, when ' four living creatures ' started at one moment
lefore, is grand in the extreme, and true to the letter." Then again, as the
/riter reminds us, there is the Hebrew tradition that the Rabbins "held a
onsultation whether they should admit him (Ezekiel) into the sacred canon, and
Ihat it was likely to be carried in the negative, when Kabbi Ananias rose up and
laid, he would undertake to remove every difficult part in the whole book. This
roposal was received ; and, to assist him in his work, that he might complete it
) his credit, they furnished him with tliree hundred barrels of oil, to light his
^mp during his studies. But the most convincing argument to our minds, is
le preliminary passage of Ezekiel, ^ And I looked, and behold, a whirlwind
ime out of the north, a great cloud, and a fire,' &c. Was not the earliest
lilway for which an Act was obtained in 1758, a coal- waggon-way at Leeds?
/as it not the Stockton and Darlington Railway which gave the grand impulse
> the locomotive movement? Was it not at Manchester that Stephenson's
igine, the ' Rocket ' first displayed the capabilities of such machines ? — All
'yrthern localities !" If we are to believe all the rest, there can be no reason why
b may not have full faith in that part of the explanation too. We cannot bow-
lder but remark that such parallels must be painful to many, perhaps to most
:'ligious persons : who require no such literal illustrations of the spiritual truths
'the Bible.
'We now propose to notice first and briefly some of the more striking individual
latures of our metropolitan railways; and then to devote the remainder of our
]lper chiefly to a view of the economy of a metropolitan station, a subject, if we
liistake not, of considerable interest, and not entirely without novelty to our
laders, and which, through the politeness of the authorities, we have had ample
< portunity of examining. We refer to the London and Birmingham, the earliest
i point of time, and greatest, as regards revenue and expenditure, of all the
Dre important railways that radiate from the common centre — London. For
t3 present, then, we pass on to the railway for which an Act was obtained in the
sine year, 1833, the Greenwich, which is remarkable as standing upon one con-
x2
308 LONDON.
tinuous series of brick arches, and which is interesting to engineers from the
experiment tried upon it as regards the respective value of stone sleepers (or
square slabs) at intervals, or continuous bearers of wood, for the support of the
rail. Stones were first used, but with such unsatisfactory result, that they were
taken up and replaced with timber : the improvement has been most decisive
This is an American custom, which Mr. Brunei, jun., was among the first to
introduce into this country, by recommending it for the Great Western. The
bearers are there carefully Kyanized to prevent decay, then secured to the ground
by piles. There is little doubt that a smoother and more elastic road has been
thus obtained. The other advantages held out, superior economy and safety, are
perhaps questionable. The formation of the Great Western Railway was sig-
nalized by a still more daring innovation on railway customs ; the rail has a
gauge of seven feet instead of four feet eight inches, the general breadth at the
period in question. Larger wheels can consequently be employed, and therefore
greater speed adopted with equal safety ; the superior width of the carriages, of
course, offers also superior facilities for carrying numerous passengers, or for
making a limited number more comfortable. As to the speed, the directors of
the line estimated their minimum would be twenty-five miles an hour, and their
speed for mails and first-class trains much more. They have not been dis
appointed; their average speed now for the latter, including stoppages^ is
twenty -nine miles an hour. We may here pause a moment to notice the gradual
rise in men's minds of our present ideas of speed. When the projectors of the
Liverpool and Manchester Railway offered their premium for the best engine
the most important of the conditions were that it should draw three times its own
weight at the rate of ten miles an hour. After their success, so astonishing at
first to themselves, both as regards the speed and the power they found they
could obtain, the directors of the London and Birmingham did not begin at a
higher rate than eighteen miles an hour, then gradually advanced to twenty,
twenty-two and a half, and ultimately to above twenty-six, including stoppages :
whilst, excluding stoppages, from thirty-six to forty-two miles per hour is run upon
the Northern and Eastern, the South-E astern, and the Brighton, and not unfre-i
quently forty-five on the Great Western, which, on special occasions of import
ance, considerably exceeds even that enormous rate. The history of the Great
Western, like that of the Birmingham, is distinguished by the severity of the
parliamentary opposition that had to be contended with and overcome. The
first company in defending its claims expended between 80,000/. and 90,O0OZ., and
the second 73,000/., facts nationally disgraceful, not so much for the individual
selfishness that was at the root of all, as for the view it gives of the business
capacities of our legislature, which stood idly and almost unconcernedly by
watching two parties fight their battle as they best might, exhausting their time
temper, and funds, instead of at once causing such inquiries to be made as were
necessary in a direct and unquestionably honest manner, and then deciding
according to the result of the inquiry. Those party fights have been attendee
by some ludicrous among many painful exhibitions. We do not know whethei
the following story ever before appeared in print, but if so it will bear repetition
— An eminent northern engineer was undergoing a rigid examination at the
RAILWAY TERMINI 309
hands of a barrister on the subject of a proposed line : " And pray, Sir," said the
latter, after many other equally shrewd and pertinent queries, '' How will you
make your crossings ?"—'' By bridges," was the brief answer. '^ Yes, yes, of
course, but how will you secure the line in that part?" — " By hedi^es." '' All
that is very well ; but come. Sir, let us suppose a case : I ask you. Sir, to suppose
a case. Suppose a valuable cow from our meadow here was to break throuwh or
leap over the hedges ; what then. Sir, I ask you, would be the consequences ?"
—'' Vary ackward for the coo ! " We believe the barrister asked no more
questions.
Perhaps the most noticeable characteristic of the Southwestern or Southampton
Railway is the prosperity which it seems likely to confer on the line of country
I and the chief towns with which it is connected. Already since the establishment
' [of the Railway has Southampton been made a mail packet station by the Govern-
jraent, whilst on the part of the people, chiefly those resident in Southampton and
Portsmouth, hundreds of thousands of pounds have been raised for the formation
in those places, of docks, piers, jetties, floating ferries, and similar Avorks ; and at
the present moment a commercial association to India and China is in process of
establishment. It is indeed a line in many respects peculiarly favoured. For
instance, it necessarily enjoys a great deal of Government patronage, not only by
carrying the mails from the most important parts of the world, but also through
its connection with the Admiralty at Portsmouth, and through the continual con-
/eyance of troops, which cause it to be in constant communication with the Horse
jruards. Some idea of the importance of this last department to the Company
nay be obtained when we state that, although the charge per head amounts to
)nly a penny and a fraction per mile, between 7000Z. and 8000Z. were neverthe-
ess received during the last year from that source. The increasing importance
)f the South Western Railway is indeed very evident from its present movements.
ISesides preparing to enlarge its metropolitan station by the addition of some four
iicres of land in the Wandsworth Road, two new branches are marked out to be
mdertaken by the Company, namely, to Epsom and to Salisbury; for all which
)urposes Acts are to be sought in the ensuing session of Parliament. At the
ame time it is proposed to follow the example of the London and Birmingham
lailway, and convert the share capital into Stock.
No less than four of the Railways we have mentioned have their termini at the
ame spot, the foot of London Bridge, where the strikingly handsome building,
|f which a part is shown in an adjoining page, is now in course of erection : these
lour are the Greenwich, the Dover, the Croydon, and the Brighton. The lines
if the whole are connected together in a most remarkable manner. Thus, for a
Ihort distance there is but one line ; then the Croydon Railway diverges to the
light, forming to Croydon also the Brighton and Dover lines ; from Croydon the
list two depart in undivided companionship as far as Redhill, about twenty-one
piles from London, where they separate to seek ^ach alone its respective des-
lination. Before this is reached on one of the lines, the Dover, the works become
f the most interesting- and extraordinary character. At Folkstone the line
)uches the coast, and from thence the tunnels, sea walls, and excavations m the
liffsare of the most stupendous nature. The accounts in the papers of the
310
LONDON.
W
[The London Terminus of the Dover, IJrij^liton, and Croydon Railway, London Bridge]
blasting of some of these mighty masses of rock by gunpowder, fired by galvanici ^^
batteries, are among the most striking memorials of engineering skill and daring, ftl
Who can ever forget that sublimely-calm lifting up of the rocky mountain, as iwfi
if to expire as a mountain should, then descending, scarcely less calm, thoughl i"^'
rent and shattered to the very heart, and crumbling to pieces as it touched itsi 'wt
former apparently invincible foundations ? During the last session an Act was^ ^^■
obtained on the part of two of these companies which will somewhat obviate thci Ifri
disadvantages arising from such a congregation of termini, and add in other ways wd
materially to the public convenience — we allude to the branch now in progressfe
from a certain point of the Croydon line to a point near the Bricklayers' Arms,! ^
where an extensive station will be erected for the joint use of the Dover andl f^
Croydon companies. The passing of this Act was a strong hint to these giant ^so
monopolies which we are now bringing into existence, perhaps necessarily, justi %^
as all others are disappearing. The Greenwich Company demanded fourpence- fif
halfpenny for every passenger that passed over their one mile and three quarters ^eri
in their way to the other three lines we have mentioned; and they had their kufi
reward when this Act passed, in spite of their most determined opposition. Wewan
hai'e mentioned the costs of the respective Acts of Parliament for the establish-
ment of the Birmingham and Great Western Railways, but the most expensive
contest that has yet taken place in this country was that connected with the
Brighton Railway, when for two successive sessions four or five companies were
engaged in the struggle. Whilst in Committee the expense of counsel and wit- ill
nesses is stated to have amounted to about a thousand pounds daily for some fifty |j
days. Can there be any other country in the world where it is so hard to obtain
itel
11!
RAILWAY TERMINI. 311
leave to spend one's money ? The Eastern Counties and the North Eastern
Railways are also connected at starting from Shoreditch (where they have a
joint and handsome station) until they reach Stratford; there the first pursues
,ts route towards Colchester, and the second towards Bishop's Stortford, from
vhich it is to be extended to Newport, an Act having been obtained In the
ast session. The Eastern Counties, for the first ten miles, runs along one
Imost continuous series of arches and bridges, the last alone numbering fifty,
lind one of them, the bridge over the Lea, having a span of seventy feet'
hen this line was first opened, in March,, 1843, three portions of it were
rossed by means of temporary viaducts of timber, rendered necessary in two
ases by gaps in the unfinished embankments, and in the third by a most per-
erse land-slip, as it is called, at Lexden, where, in a space of about forty feet
y thirty, earth Avas thrown down in such amazing quantities, without the slightest
erceptible elevation, that it is said that sixty thousand cubic yards of soil failed
jo raise the embankment a single yard either in its height or its length. On the
hole of this line there are no less than 365 bridges, arches, and culverts. The
xpense of the Railway, as may be supposed, was enormous, namely, nearly
,800,000/. up to last August. An Act for a branch from the Eastern Counties
t Stratford to the Thames was sought last session, but (it is said, through mis-
pprehension) ineffectually. Since writing the above, we perceive by the papers
hat the two companies, the Northern and Eastern and the Eastern Counties, have
ecome completely amalgamated into one, and that the general management of
>oth has been transferred to a board of directors consisting of twelve members
f the greater company and six of the lesser. We may now hope, it seems, to
ave the one line pushed on northwards from Newport to Cambridge and Ely,
nd thence eastward to Brandon and westward to Peterborough. Truly the net-
work of railway is fast enveloping the entire surface of England. The London
nd Blackwall Railway has some peculiarly individual features to distinguish
; from the other metropolitan Railways, arising chiefly from the fact that no
)comotive engines are used on it, and that it is necessary to set down passen-
ers very frequently. Accordingly there is an endless rope, nearly six and a
alf miles long, or double the length of the Railway, attached to two powerful
ngines, one at Blackwall and one in London. A train starting from the latter
1 so arranged as that the Blackwall carriages shall be foremost, and the car-
jages for all intermediate stations similarly placed in order. At a signal, given
jy means of the electric telegraph, the Blackwall engine begins to wind up
le rope, thereby drawing the carriages attached towards it. On approaching
le first station the carriage destined for it is detached from the train by the
uard, and stopped by a brake; and the same proceeding takes place at all
le other stations. Whilst drawing the train, the Blackwall engine has at the
ime time of course unwound the other part of the rope attached to the London
igine, which, in its turn winding up, draws back the train, with all the carriages,
hich before starting have been attached to the rope, wherever they were, so
lat they come in with a rather curious-looking want of unanimity, but of course
ley all do come in by dint of suflicient winding-up of the rope, and so the
irriages are again collected together. The same line therefore, it will be seen.
312 LONDON.
is used both for going and returning. A stranger to the Railway, after reading
this account, may be surprised to hear that by such means, and hampered
with such difficulties, the Blackwall Railway will take him along at a rate vary-
in o- from twenty to thirty miles an hour. Yet so it is. And in a great measure
this has been accomplished through that beautiful invention of our own times,
the electric telegraph. Its importance here may be understood when we state
that it is not only necessary for the attendants at each terminus to know when
the train is about to start from the opposite extremity of the line, but also
when the carriages at all the ^ve intermediate stations are ready : there must be,
in short, an almost instantaneous communication, whenever required, through the
entire line — and this is obtained by means of the telegraph. The principle of
this agency is thus explained by Mr. Cooke : — " As a natural stream of elec-
tricity passing round the circumference of the earth causes magnetic needles in
general to be deflected at right angles to its course, or toward the north and
south poles, so an artificial stream of electricity of adequate strength will cause
magnetic needles placed within its influence to be similarly deflected at right
ano-les to its course, whatever that may be." A wire, then, is laid down from
London to Blackwall, connected where required with certain small instruments,
containing a needle so fixed that it moves either toward the left or the right,
in accordance with the direction, given to the magnetic current passed through
it; the one movement intimating ''stop," the other ''go on :" those who desire to
give the signal previously ringing a bell placed above the dial in the place where
the signal is to be received, and which is also managed by an ingenious applica-
tion of the voltaic stream. Of course the communication between the battery of
any particular station and the general wire may be interrupted or continued as
required.
It has been calculated, and the fact gives one a striking idea of this truly
stupendous undertaking, that the quantity of earth and stone removed on the
London and Birmingham line, 112 miles long, was about sixteen millions of cubic
yards, which, if formed into a belt three feet wide and one high, would more than
encompass the earth at the equator. Yet the mere quantity of the earth and
stone removed formed but a small portion of the mighty task ; which consisted
rather in the circumstances under which the labours were so frequently carried
on — now in piercing through a mile-long tunnel; now cutting for two miles toge-
ther, and fifty feet deep, through the limestone rock; now through another
tunnel above a mile and a quarter long, where nearly 600 yards of the entire
length was a perfect quicksand, in which the excavators could only pursue their
labours by the aid of most powerful steam-engines ; and which tunnel, alone, cost
400,000/. The fact is, that auch lines of railway are each a conquest over an
aggregate of difficulties, any one of which, a few years ago, would have made their
engineer famous. Passing from the line itself, to the stations which are formed
on it at intervals, we have a scarcely less magnificent idea presented to us of the
character of the Railway. Three of these stations alone — those at Birmingham,
Camden Town, and Euston Square, occupy fifty acres, in addition to which there
are stations of great magnitude at Wolverton, Rugby, and Hampton, and^ several
smaller ones. The original estimate for stations was about 70,000/., but such
RAILWAY TERMINI. 313
has been the immensity of the traffic, and the greater accommodation conse-
quently required, that ten times that sum have been expended. One of these
ast-named stations— Wolverton, the grand central one of the Company— is, alone,
[worthy of a visit; the Company have there built quite a little town, which has
Iready its population of 800 souls, almost all their own people; a church, in a
eautiful early English style, with parsonage-house attached, in the Tudor
tyle; a market-house, reading-rooms, schools, streets, and squares— aye, even
quares. The schools have four teachers— a master, and three mistresses.
any of the houses have a small garden-plot attached ; but in order to assist in
endering such tastes universal, the Company have rented a piece of ground, of
burteen acres, simply to let out to their people at a low rent.
The Camden Town Station is used chiefly as a kind of supplementary station
o that of Euston Square ; here, for instance, are kept the engines required for
he metropolitan extremity of the line ; and here all the heavy goods are set
own, with cattle, sheep, &c., thereby leaving the Euston Square station entirely
For the accommodation of passengers, and for the receipt and delivery of parcels.
A.nd, as one looks at the immense warehouses that range along one side of the
Dam den Town Station, with the well-known names inscribed on their front
Pickford and Co., Chaplin and Home, &c., how the eventful history of the last
■ew years, as regards conveyance, rises forcibly to the mind ! Where are the fly-
/ans of the one now ? Where all the fast coaches of the other ? that those great
eviathans of the road come hither so meekly to take up their lot with the Oppo-
(ition? They have put down many an opposition in their time, but, apparently,
here was no putting down this ! So the fly-vans and fast coaches were dropped
|uietly into oblivion, and their owners now content themselves with carrying
leavy goods to and from the Railway. The change has been indeed wonderful
n all that relates to coaches and coaching, whether drawn by four horses, three,
•r two ; in all that relates to vans, waggons, and carriers' carts ; in all that relates
o the inns and yards where they were erst accustomed to start from or to put up
■t. Our metropolitan inns and yards in particular could, we fear, tell a melan-
holy story of deserted rooms, pining chambermaids, and misanthropic ostlers, of
gallant teams that used to prance in and out so, notwithstanding the narrowness
f the way, of landlords once thriving, but since gone into the Gazette, or mea-
uring the time when they must go into it. We suspect that not all their faith
a political economy can satisfy them of the beauty of these adjustments of the
atural principles of supply and demand ; and that, in reality, their only con-
Dlation is — they can't help it. But to return. The plan adopted on the
Birmingham Railway is, to leave the collection of all bulky commodities to
be carriers before mentioned, the railway proprietors only receiving from the
ublic what are called parcels; and charging the carriers at a fixed rate per
)n for whatever they put upon the line to be transmitted. And a goodly
rain they provide for the Company occasionally. There have been as many
t one time as eighty-four waggons in a single train, to draw which four
ngines were required; the country people must surely have thought London
as removing en masse. We now advance towards the engine-house, passing,
n the way, the coke-yard, where a long double range of furnaces are constantly
314 LONDON.
employed forming small coal into coke. The engine-house is a strange-loolving
place, with the floor covered with tracks and circles, the last a most ingenious
contrivance for turning the engine round so as to remove it from one line of rail
to another. To this house the engines, which go no further than Wolverton, are
brought on their return from that place with the trains, to be cleaned and care-
fully examined ; no engine being sent out a second time till it has undergone
these processes. How many of those beautiful and powerful things, which
really seem, in the words of the writer before quoted, to be instinct with a
vital spirit, and panting like some might}- animal — how many of these, may it be
supposed, are required for the service of the Birmingham Railway? — Ninety!
There are absolutely ninety of them now in the Company's possession, all
in the most perfect condition. The performances of some of these engines
are marvellous. Three or four years ago, a very minute investigation was
made into their respective powers, as well as into the separate branches
of expense attending their employment. It was then found that one engine,
the most powerful among the passenger engines, had run during six months
14.822 miles, and conveyed loads which, for one mile, would be equal to
650,246 tons. As regards consumption of fuel, and cost, the averages struck for
the performance of all the passenger engines engaged in the six months, showed
that 37| lbs. of coke were consumed for each mile run, and fourteen ounces for
each ton conveyed one mile, and that the cost was 7\d. for each mile run, or
about one-sixth of a penny for each ton conveyed that distance. The locomo-
tives, as is well known, stop at Camden Town, and from thence the carriages run
by their own impetus down an inclined plane to Euston Square ; and up which,
on their return, they are drawn by an endless rope, stretched on small wheels
between the rails, and winding at each extremity round a great wheel beneath
the ground, motion being given by one of two powerful steam-engines at Camden
Town, also buried beneath the earth, where the two tall and rather elegant-
looking chimneys stand that are so conspicuous for miles round. But hark!
Whence that whistle ? It seemed to come from the little wooden shed where we
descend to the steam-engines just mentioned. It did so, we are informed, and
intimates that a train is ready at Euston Square to start. Hardly anything in
particular makes you wonder on a railway, everything is so wonderful; therefore
quietly asking for an explanation we are shown a contrivance of the most inge-
nious and simple character. There are two cylinders without tops, one of which
is turned upside down into the other, and the last filled with water ; the inner
one is, therefore, air-tight. In this is a pipe extending from hence to another
little signal-house at Euston Square similarly furnished, and, by the mere turn of
a handle, air is suddenly forced into the pipe, when, in about two seconds after,
a whistle is heard at the other end, a mile and three quarters distant. The
whistle, therefore, we have just heard comes from Euston Square. Instantly the
steam-engine sets to work, the rope glides rapidly along, which, being perceived
by the man at Euston Square, tells him, in answer to his whistle, that all is
ready. Presently we sec the train come thundering towards us and stopping
here for its engines, the policeman welcoming it with the white flag, signifying
that the way is clear. It is an anxious time on a railway when that white flag is
RAILWAY TERMINI.
315
not seen, and when in its place a green one is exhibited, enjoining caution, or
more terrible still when the red one appears, threatening dangers, and com-
manding an instantaneous halt. By night the flags are exchanged for lamps,
which, with so many turns of the hand, exhibit the same colours. The perfection
of all the arrangements on such a railway as this is, indeed, most extraordinary ;
every contingency has been thought of, and systematically provided for. Here is
an instance in this train that has just come up from the country. A ship going
into harbour is not treated with more caution than a train meets with in being led
into the metropolis ; like that, too, it must have its special pilots, the bank-riders,
as they are called, a small body of men who do nothing but this; from Euston
Square to Camden Town, and from Camden Town to Euston Square is the
extent of their travels ; and very absolute in their dominions they are. The
engine called the pilot-engine furnishes another instance of the Company's care
and forethought. Let but any train exceed its time by a certain number of
minutes, and out comes the pilot-engine and runs off as fast as it is able to seek
its truant fellow and all the carriages under his charge, learn what is the matter,
and render its assistance if necessary. The duties of the metropolitan pilot-
engine extend as far as Tring, where there is another, ready for the same purpose,
and so along the whole line at intervals. And what, it may be asked, is that man
doing who seems to delight in lounging along the line of a railway, of all places
in the world? Oh, he does nothing but take care of the rope, watching daily
over its state with the most kindly and incessant solicitude. It is interesting to
mark the result of such care and foresight in connection with the whole of our
English railways. During the years 1840-41-42 there was a regularly decreasing
average of accidents, until in the last mentioned year, if we omit accidents caused
by the evident misconduct of passengers, or accidents to servants of the com-
panies, we find the almost miraculous result that of eighteen millions of persons
carried by railway in 1842, one only was killed ! Still, it is to be observed, that
in looking at the character for safety of any particular system of locomotion, acci-
dents to those engaged in promoting the public convenience must not be esteemed
of less grave consequence ; and such accidents are, it appears, very numerous.
These, too, must disappear before we can or ought to be content with any system.
It is useless to put dangerous tools into men's hands, with the hope that the
knowledge of their danger will make them habitually careful ; it never does any-
thing of the kind : and we should be thankful for it. Could a more horrible
tate of existence be devised than one where men felt in continual danger of their
Hives ?
The most conspicuous feature of the Euston Square Station is, of course, the
gateway, the grandest specimen of Grecian architecture perhaps existing in
England, which is almost saying, in other words, that it is the grandest of all
English gateways, which we think it is. There are, no doubt, many richer, many
more interesting, many more valuable, from various causes, but none so truly,
purely noble. Look on it from what aspect you will, and however often, it never
jwearies, never seems to grow smaller either in its style or actual dimensions,
which is more than can be said of most modern structures ; it is, in a word, worthy
of its position, and wc know not what higher praise could be bestowed on it.
316
LONDON.
[Entriinee fo fliL' London and Burningliam lliihvay.]
We need not dwell upon its details, since they are shown in the adjoining
engraving ; it will be sufficient therefore merely to add that its height is seventy
feet, and that the granite pillars, though hollow at the core, are eight feet six
inches in diameter.
And now as we walk round the busy scene before us; at every step some
illustration of the liberality and the wisdom that pervades all the arrangements
meets the eye. Here, on the right of the gateway, one of the little buildings
that flank it is now being elegantly fitted up for the accommodation of per-
sons waiting to receive friends; whilst those who come to see friends depart
follow the latter into the rooms that lie on either side the office where tickets are
obtained. Then again mark that carriage coming in at its own separate entrance ;
how quietly and rapidly" the horses are removed, the carriage turned with its back
to the edge of the platform, and then pushed over the little pieces of iron lying
embedded in the stone, till turned back upon the railway-truck, like little
bridges — and that work is accomplished ; or mark the arrangements for pas-
sengers leaving Avho require a cab; the wish is expressed to the porter, who f|
calls the one of the forty-five allowed within the yard whose turn it is ; the vehicle
hurries along with its fare, but before passing through the gate the driver's des-
tination and number are taken down by a clerk. You wonder at the meaning
of so troublesome a proceeding, as you fancy it must be, to the Company— you
get home, jump out, and in the delight of return forget your carpet-bag, with
heaven knows how many valuables in it. You hurry off in a great fume and
fright to the Station — before you have well got out the story the clerk hands you
RAILWAY TERMINI. 317
over the bag : you^ appreciate fully then the Company's thought fulness. The
fact is that each of these men deposits a certain sum (two pounds) before he is
I admitted into the railway-fellowship, and so sure as he neglects to bring back
anything left in his cab, or charges a solitary sixpence more than his fare, even
to ease his conscience — for certainly all cabmen must look upon the legal fare as
\ a sin alike in him that gives and him that takes — so sure as any complaint of
that kind reaches the Company is he fined, suspended, or altogether dismissed
from the yard. It is quite touching, we understand, to see the virtue and
humility of the cabmen under these little provisions for their welfare and that of
the public. In the same spirit of regard for the protection of their customers,
which contrasts so gratifyingly with the selfish recklessness that too often charac-
terised the old coach- proprietors, the Company make it an invariable rule to have
all the carriages examined on the arrival of every train, immediately after the
passengers leave them, and whatever is found is carried also to the office for the
custody of lost property, where it stays, if unclaimed, till the annual sale, the
proceeds of which exceeded a hundred pounds last year, and which will probably
regularly average at least that amount. The disposal of the proceeds of the sale
reminds us of another honourable feature of the Company's establishment. They
have formed a Friendly Society among the parties connected with the Railway,
which every one must belong to, though the compulsion is anything but dis-
agreeable, considering that the benefits are more than proportionate to the pay-
ments. The proceeds of the annual sale go to the Friendly Society, all fines
evied by the Company from their officers do the same, and then there is con-
inually some irregular source of income arising through the liberality of the
irectors. For instance, when Her Majesty, the other day, travelled on the line,
he Company of course made no charge, and Koyalty of course was not the less
unificent — fifty guineas were presented, and handed over to the Friendly
ociety. The members receive from this a handsome weekly allowance when
ick or superannuated. The number of persons permanently engaged on the
ailway, and for the greater part of whom the Society has been instituted, is
Tobably not less than fifteen hundred — a goodly establishment, commencing
ith Chairman, Deputy-Chairman, and Board of Directors, and then passing
radually downwards through all the stages of Secretary, Superintendent, Super-
intendent of Locomotive Power, Architect, Consulting Engineer (Mr. Stephen -
ion, the patriarch of the system). Resident Engineer, Cashier, Accountant, Heads
f Departments, Engineers, Overlookers, Guards, Ticket Collectors, Police, Por-
ers, &c. &c. Having alluded to Her Majesty's visit, we may remark that the
arriage built for her use is exceedingly chaste and beautiful, of a rich chocolate
olour on the outside, with white window-cases and plate-glass, and lined through-
aut in the interior with delicate blue satin — walls, couch, and the two arm-chairs.
r-jBut a still more delicate mark of attention is in preparation for the next occasion
™dn which the Sovereign may honour the Company with her presence : two rooms,
one a kind of ante-chamber, are fitting up in the most exquisite style. The
svalls are white and buff, painted in large pannels, with the most fairy -like scroU-
prnaments and flowers. The windows reach from the floor to the ceiling, and,
l)ne of these opened. Her Majesty will step at once out upon the platform, ready
318 LONDON.
to enter her railway-carriage. This kind of fitness of every ofEce, or room, or
thing to its place, is characteristic of all the arrangements ; so that in the very
height of the bustle and apparent confusion, nothing in reality but the strictest
order prevails. Among the many other interesting objects about the Station,
the vast number of the carriages must attract attention, ready to provide accom-
modation, at a minute's notice, to any conceivable number of passengers that
may present themselves. The Company possesses 438 of these carriages at the
present time, in addition to 600 waggons. Among these the Mail carriages
appear conspicuous, each one painted a different colour, according as it favours
Liverpool or Manchester, Birmingham or Coventry. But, not content with
building towms, and churches, and schools, forming Friendly Societies, establish-
ing their own hotels (those two splendid ones opposite the gateway belong to a
company formed out of the greater Company), the Railway must have its own
Post-Office too ; this carriage before us, partially divided in the centre into two
rooms, in one of which, shaped into a half circle^ the upper portion of the wall
is covered with neat little nests, each with the name of a place painted beneath.
Here, regularly as the hour comes round, resort two clerks and a guard, with all
the northern letters ; the door is shut, and work begins. And thus while the train
is rattling away at its usual swift pace, the bags are, one by one, emptied of
their contents, and distributed into these little nests, till the whole of those
required for the line are exhausted ; then they are re-made up into the proper
bags, and a new phase of the capabilities of the Railway Post-Office is exhibited.
As the train is approaching a minor station, where no stoppage is allowed, the
bag for that station is suspended outside the carriage, on a curious little hook.
At the station itself the arrangements are of a similar character — the bao^ is sus-
pended by means of a pole, so as to be quite close to the Railway Post-Office
which is to receive it. As the carriage passes at the rate of some thirty miles
an hour, it quietly knocks off the bag into a net which lies extended beneath^
and with the same movement releases the other bag from the hook and sends it
whirling into the road, far out of harm's way. We don't know what those old
respectable postmasters, who have always been accustomed to think a dignified
slowness part of the duty of the office, must think of this — but could fancy they
must feel greatly scandalised. But we must dwell no longer on this subject, as
another demands our little remaining space ; so, with the mere mention of the
new Ticket Office, so admirably fitted for its object; the Bude Light, which so
brilliantly illumines the outer area; and lastly, the Transfer Office, where a
register is kept of all transfers of Stock, as the capital is now called, by virtue of
a recent Act, and which, when completed to its full amount of seven millions, will
be \vorth some seventeen millions on the Stock Exchange, we conclude our notice
of the London and Birmingham Railway Terminus. We may here append a
table showing various particulars connected with the foregoing railways, such as
the amounts expended upon each, the cost of construction per mile, the average
number of passengers weekly, and the average weekly receipts (omitting frac-
tional sums), which we have extracted from a more comprehensive statement of
the same kind just published in one of the railway journals : —
RAILWAY TERMINI.
319
Name of Railway.
Amount expended
as per last Report.
Cost per mile.
Passengers
per week.
Receipts
per week.
London and Birmingham
e£'5,953,83I
£52,882
, ,
i'12,019
London and Greenwich
1,026,101
264,228
30,397
647
South Western
2,588,984
27,834
, ,
5,144
Great Western
6,651,928
56,372
29,275
10,932
London and Croydon
683,304
75,923
3,472
241
South Eastern and Dover
2,615,283
36,835
7,546
2,449
Northern and Eastern
914,004
31,517
10,205
1,553
Eastern Counties
2,700,157
53,736
16,141
2,412
London and Blackwall
1,289,080
332,705
34,879
583
London and Brighton
2,634,058
57,262
11,317
3,073
There is a short railway, but little known among the public, called the West
London, constructed to unite the Great Western and the Birmingham railways,
and give both facility of communication with the Thames by means of the Ken-
sington Canal at Kensington. On that railway exists a very remarkable spot,
where first, at the lowest level, we see the railway, then above that a canal, and
over that again a bridge or public roadway, the whole work being we believe
perfectly unique in the annals of engineering. This arrangement, which got over
great difficulties, was the work of Mr. Hosking. But that railway is still more
remarkable for a series of experiments commenced upon it two or three years
ago in order in test the capacities of a new locomotive agency — the atmosphere
itself. Along the middle of the track for about half a mile was laid, at a certain
height from the ground, an iron pipe, nine or ten inches in diameter. In this a
piston was moved along at a rate of from twenty to thirty miles an hour, by
simply exhausting the pipe constantly before it, by means of air-pumps worked
by a stationary steam-engine. Of course there was a groove through the whole
length of the pipe, with a valve to close it, made air-tight by means of tallow,
&c., which gave way to the impetus of the advancing piston, and was immediately
relaid by a hot iron. The engine being attached to the piston, the whole appa-
ratus was complete. Now the advantages promised by this system were of the
est important character, if the idea itself was practicable. There were no
team-engines to burst and scatter death and dismay on all sides ; no possibility of
running off rails, since the engine was firmly bound by the middle to its proper
line ; no collision by meeting other trains, since the engines in front would each
stop the other by preventing the formation of the necessary vacuum; in short it
promised to rid us at once of all the formidable dangers attending railway travel-
ling. But it did seem too good to be practicable. At the best it was thought it
jvould probably turn out slower or dearer than the old mode. What then must
we now think of the system when we hear on unquestionable authority that on
the Dalkey extension of the Dublin and Kingstown Railway, trains, bond fide
:rains, have been for a considerable time propelled at rates of speed varying
■rem twenty-five io fifty or sixty m\\es an hour? and that, too, in spite of an
ipward inclination of the line in some cases as steep as 1 in 57, and averaging
generally 1 in 115, and in spite, too, of several curves of a more than usually
imall diameter ! Nay, in the late ' Westminster Eeview ' the speed is said to
I
320
LONDON.
have reached eighty miles ; and that whilst safety and economy — for with all its
other wonders it is said to be more economical too — are both secured in an extra-
ordinary degree, there really seems no limit whatever to the speed of the
Atmospheric Railway. This is indeed advancing with giant strides to per-
fection. '
[Rvidue, Can;;,!, ;uul Railway at Wormwooil Scrubbs.]
Ill
111
k
[The Council Chamber of the Artillery Company.]
CXLVl.— MILITARY LONDON,
'here are few pleasanter occupations than that of wandering about among the
realities which the chroniclers of Old London have made memorable, or which
ferive still higher interest from the great men who have been born, who have
^ved, or who have died in them. The metropolis is wonderfully rich in such
jociations; every district, almost every street, lane, or alle}^ has its own separate
tory ; and many of those persons who hurry from clime to clime in search of
[niusement and instruction from turning over the decayed debris — as though they
rere so many pages of the histor}^^ — of the past, might be surprised, on investiga-
|ion, to find how much they had left unnoticed within a few paces of their own
reside. Wandering the other day, with some such thoughts as these floating
irough the mind, we found ourselves in Moorfields, upon the very spot that,
?ven centuries ago, formed a vast lake, and which, when frozen over in winter,
as the resort of all the sledgers and skaters of the metropolis ; the sledge of the
ne being a large cake of ice, the skate of the other the leg-bone of some animal,
ith which, if they could not rival the quadrille parties of the Parks in the nine-
;enth century, they at all events managed to progress with such speed, that
itz-Stephen likens their velocity to the flight of a bird, or a bolt discharged from
! cross-bow. Poor Fitz-Stephen's shade would be somewhat bewildered could it
3 shown Moorfields now, and told that that was the spot he so graphically
VOL. VI. y
322 LONDON.
described. But beyond Moorfields the change has been no less comprehensive.
As we strolled on, recollections of Finsbury Fields and the Archers' Butts, with
their quaint names, each a trophy of some wondrous feat in the art, rose to the
mind; but, on looking* round, no sight nor sound was there to intimate even
the possibility of such things having ever happened there ; the very solemn-
looking mansions of Finsbury Square alone met the eye, and the only notice-
able recollection suggested by them was of anything but an harmonious nature, — ■
Lackington, the bookseller, and the statue which the inhabitants would not let
him erect in the centre of the square, when he was so kind as to offer one of—
himself. Still, passing on northwards towards Bunhill Fields, we thought of the
spot where the author of the ' Pilgrim's Progress' lies buried; and of Milton,
blind, sitting by the door, warming himself in the blessed sunshine, and answer-
ing every heavenly influence in tones of grander harmony than ever swelled
from the fabled Memnon's breast ; in a house in Artillery Walk was ' Paradise
Lost' written, and there the sublime author died. But whilst thus
*' Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy "
we were interrupted; surely, thought we, that was a volley of musketry; yes,
again it came ; we looked in the direction of the sound, and the gates of the
Artillery Company met our gaze; so then it was the remnant of that once
famous body of citizens that we heard, still exercising with unfaltering resolution!
No longer praised, but still exercising ; no longer in reality wanted, but still exer
cising; their occupation, like Othello's, might be gone, but it was something to
show that they had had such an occupation, so there they were still exercising.
There was something in the very constancy of such attachment that smote us
forcibly, and as again the volley came, what with our admiration in one direction,
and what with our impression in another that we had heard better firing, w
found ourselves half unconsciously imitating the Frenchman's enthusiasm an
honesty — Magnifique ! Superbe \ By Gar, it pretty well ! And as this feelin
passed off, and we began to recall, incident by incident, the military glories of
London, and to reflect how large a share of them was directly owing to the men oi
the Artillery Garden, those sounds did seem an extraordinary and most significan
illustration of the progress of civilization, of peace, and generally of juster idea
and habits ; we could not for the life of us resist the impression that they were
a kind of military farewell to the departed ; a portion of the funeral ceremonj
performed by the last representatives of the warriors of ancient London, the heirs
to all their reputation. To be sure they need not repeat the ceremony everj
Thursday in order to convince the world of their respect and reverence ; butwhal
harm is there in so doing ? Nothing can be more innocent than the volleys here
unless it be the intentions of those who fire them. And the neighbourhood would
have a right to look for compensation, if they were deprived of their accustomed
opportunities of unbending their bows, strained somewhat severely by the harsh-
nesses of business, by losing the exhibition of the little facetiae of the Artiller}
Garden. Yet, if now such exhibitions have necessarily dwindled away till feM
things can be smaller, there are, on the other hand, few, if any, municipal militarj
histories grander than that with which the Artillery Company has been so closelj
and honourably identified.
1
MILITARY LONDON.
323
The earliest noticeable event recorded, that gives us a glimpse of the prowess of
the citizens, has a double value, inasmuch as it i^ives us also a charinino- trait
in the character of the noblest of British monarchs, Alfred. When the Danish
chief, Hastings, was roaming with his followers like a pack of hungry wolves over
the country, pillaging where they could pillage, and destroying where they could
not, his wife and two sons were left in the Castle of Benfleet, in Essex, then in
is possession. Partly, perhaps, with the hope of making a diversion in Alfred's
avour, and partly, perhaps, tempted by the value of such captives if they could
btain them, Ethelred, Alfred's son-in-law and eolderman of the Mercians, led a
|body of London citizens and others against the Castle, stormed, and took it : then
eturned to the metropolis with the prisoners and an immense booty of gold and
ilver, horses, arms, and garments. When Alfred reached London, the wife and
he sons were presented to him, and he was advised to put them to death ;
Ifred's answer was, to load them with presents, and send them back to the
usband and father. The bravery which this little story implies was still
ore decidedly showm in the reign of Ethelred the Unready, when the citizens
epeatedly drove back the Danes from their walls ; and, again, in the short
overeignty of Edmund Ironside, when they thrice repelled Canute and all his
ost ; and, perhaps more conspicuously still, in the Conqueror's marked hesitation
entering London, after the battle of Hastings and death of Harold ; nay, he
id not venture at last within the walls till the clergy and nobles had betrayed
e national cause, and made opposition on the part of the City useless. Such
ven from the earliest period was Military London.
We may judge, then, that the influence of London on all occasions of great
portance, such as the struggles of rival parties, or of rival sovereigns, was
reat; the facts show that in numerous cases it was decisive; Henry I. may be
id to have owed his crown to the support of the London citizens ; so also Ste-
hen ; whilst John, at the last moment, was forced into the solemn recognition of
agna Charta by the adhesion of London to the Barons, then advancing with a
owerful army. There are some features connected with the metropolitan sup-
ort of Stephen too interesting to be passed over. Just when Matilda had
cceeded, through the flattering promises of her brother, the Earl of Gloucester,
obtaining the tacit support of the Londoners, so far as to induce her to enter
ondon and prepare for her coronation, and when she began to think herself
rong enough to refuse to fulfil those promises, with something like contempt
r the petitioners, there appeared one day about noon, on the feast of St. John
lie Baptist, a body of horse on the other side of the river immediately opposite
le City. They bore the banner of Queen Maud, Stephen's wife. The church
plls rang throughout the City, and, as though prepared for the event, the
ople rushed instantly to arms; from every house, we are told, at least one man
nt forth with whatever weapon he could lay hand on ; like bees issuing from
eir hives they gathered in the streets. The ominous sounds reached Matilda
she sat at table : she rose, mounted the first horse that was brought, and
illoped off just in time to escape being made prisoner. Before she had well
ared the western suburb, the people were pillaging and destroying in her
)artments. From that time till the final arrangement which gave her son the
iccession to the crown, and left Stephen himself while he lived in peaceable
y2
324 LONDON.
possession of it, neither Matilda nor any of her partizans again were seen in
London. During the contention between Henry III. and the Barons, and Ed-
ward II. and the same (to royalty) troublesome body, the efforts of the citizens
on the popular side were scarcely less memorable ; and when, during the rule of
Edward III., " sides" disappeared, they distinguished themselves no less zealously
by their support of that monarch in his French wars ; now responding to his call
upon those " strong in body" to use in their recreations bows and arrows, oi
pellets and bolts, and learn and exercise the art of shooting ; now giving him
practical proof of their progress by supplying him with a hundred men-at-arms,
horses and accoutrements, all complete, and five hundred armed foot soldiers ; now.
to finish the whole handsomely, lending him individually or collectively sums oi
money : one Simon de Frauncis, in 1343, lent 800/., while in 1355 the Companies
raised for him 452Z. 16^., worth probably to him twenty times its nominal value
to us.
But let us here look a little closer into Military London itself; and suppose,
firsts we glance at two or three specimens of the military citizen. Here is one
the son of a country tanner, apprenticed in London to a tailor, subsequently
pressed into the army, and there finding himself very much at home, staying in it
to please himself when no longer obliged to do so to please others. Not merelj
his own country, but his own country's wars, are insufficient for his expansive
genius. His brother Merchant Tailors at home hear one year that he is famoui
in France, the next in Italy, the next in Florence, the next in Pisa. At last, in
deed, they learn that he has set up the business of w^arrior on his own account
that he has, in short, become captain of one of those bands known as Condottieri
who let themselves out for hire to any king, prince, or duke that wants them
But he is no vulgar freebooter ; he marries the niece of the Duke of Milan, and
then fights him, and at last dies in Florence with the character of the best soldie
of his age, and has a sumptuous monument erected to his memory. So mucl
for Sir John Hawkwood, Merchant Tailor. Contemporary with him was then
living one John Mercer, also a freebooter, but who managed his trade so badl
as to be called what he was. This Mercer, encouraged by the feeble grasp wit
which the youthful Richard held the affairs of the nation, preyed upon th
English mercantile navy, carrying off many rich prizes, and on one occasion sweep
ing out the entire shipping from the harbour of Scarborough : this was in 137
Of course there was great outcry among the merchants, who complained to th
government, and were promised redress. More ships were seized, more com
plaints made, more promises given, and kept as before. Then quietly steppec
forward John Philpot, a distinguished citizen, fitted out at his own expense anci
risk a strong fleet, put on board a thousand armed men, and then stepped ii
after them himself as their commander. The pirate was soon met, flushed wit!
success, a goodly train of captured ships about him, among them no less tba
fifteen Spanish vessels richly laden. A long and desperate fight ensued, whic
ended in the capture of the pirate with most of his ships. Of course all thi
was unendurable at court. John Philpot was summoned to explain what h
meant by his presumption and conceit in dealing with grievances in thi
summary fashion ; but Philpot was as able to speak as to fight, and mode
withal ; so that the great benefactor of his day succeeded in obtaining — an acquittal
MILITARY LONDON. 325
with the understanding, however, one may presume, that he was to put down no
more pirates. In many other ways did this noble specimen of military London
distinguish himself. He was, says Fuller, '' the scourge of the Scots, the fright of
the French, the delight of the Commons, the darling of the merchants, and [not
the least of his merits] the hated of some envious lords," for whom John Philpot,
no doubt, was much too patriotic. Our third and last specimen of the citizen
soldier of the fourteenth century is Sir William Walworth, the man whose decision
at a most critical moment broke to pieces in an instant the most formidable class
insurrection that England has ever seen. King Richard, with his retinue of
barons, knights, the Lord Mayor, and other city magistrates, in all not exceeding
sixty persons, met the vast body of the rioters, headed by Wat Tyler, in Smith-
ield, who came thither at the King's invitation, forwarded by Sir John Newton,
»yho, having pressed the Tyler to hasten, was told he might go and tell his master
ie would come when he thought proper. As soon as Wat Tyler saw the King
16 set spurs to his horse, and rode up with the abrupt salutation, '' Sir King,
;eest thou all yonder people ?" — '' Yea, truly," was the reply : '' wherefore
liayest thou so?" — ^' Because,^' returned he, " they be all at my command, and
liave sworn to me their faith and truth to do all that I would have them." '' In
tood time I believe it well," said the King. " Then," continued Wat Tyler,
r believe thou. King, that these people, and as many more as be in London at
Iny command, will depart from thee thus, without having thy letters?" — '^ No,"
leplied Richard; " ye shall have them, they be ordained for you, and shall be
[lelivered to every one of them." At that moment it seems the Sir John Newton
)efore mentioned, who had probably offended the people's leader by his bearing,
[aught his eye, as he sat on horseback carrying the King's sword ; upon which
^e was told it would better become him to be on foot in his (the speaker's) pre-
jnce. Sir John remarked that he saw no harm in that ; when the infuriated
jler, intoxicated with the obedience that had been hitherto paid to him^ drew
[is dagger, and called Sir John Newton a traitor, who flung back the lie in his
;eth, and drew his dagger also. Wat Tyler then demanded from him the sword
|e bore. " No," said the knight, '' it is the King's sword, of which thou art not
jorthy ; neither durst thou ask it of me if we had been by ourselves." Wat
[ould then have rushed upon him, but the King caused Sir John to dismount,
fhis furnishes a pretty fair example of the spirit in which the advocate of the
jople's wrongs, which were undoubtedly real enough, was prepared to seek
|ieir redress : at the same time, it is to be observed, he was an utterly unedu-
ited man, raised suddenly to his position by over-controlling circumstances, and
lierefore utterly unfit for it. In the conference that ensued, his personal beha-
kour seems to have grown more and more intolerable, and to have suggested to
lie minds of those about the King the idea of a bold attempt to put a stop to the
[hole business by arresting him. Richard, with some reluctance, consented to so
jarful an experiment, which he confided to the care of the mayor. Sir WiUiam
/'alworth, who, being no sheriff's officer, went about the arrest in the most cha-
LCteristic manner, commencing with a blow from his sword that wounded Wat
yler dangerously ; and, as he turned to rejoin his men, Ralph Standish, one of
Q King's esquires, ran him through the body, '' so that he fell flat on his back
the ground, and, beating with his hands to and fro for a while, gave up his
326 LONDON.
■unhappy ghost." It was an awful success. The men of Kent cried out they
were betrayed, and bent their bows for the indiscriminate slaughter of the royal
party ; when Richard, as though putting into one act the entire resolution of a
lifetime (for he was, indeed, weak afterwards), galloped fearlessly towards them,
exclaiming, '' What are ye doing, my lieges ? Tyler was a traitor : I am you
King, and I will be your captain and guide." Insurrectionists, like women, are
generally lost when they hesitate : these hesitated now, and, whilst they were
hesitating, the King rode back to Sir William Walworth for counsel. " Mak
for the fields," was the prompt answer : '' if we attempt to retreat or flee, our ruin
is certain ; but let us gain a little time, and we shall be assisted by our good friend
in the City, who are preparing and arming with all their servants." The Kin
obeyed, and rode off, followed by the greater part of the people, towards Isling
ton; whilst Sir William hurried into the city for succour, where a thousand of th
citizens, armed, had been waiting in the streets for some knight to lead them,
lest coming out of order they might easily be broken (a noticeable proof ol
their sense of the value of military discipline), when, by chance. Sir Robert
Knowles passing by, they requested him to lead them, which, with the assistance
of other knights, he did. As soon as the host that had followed Wat Tyle
beheld them, they were struck with a sudden panic. Some ran away through thd
corn-fields, and the rest threw down their arms, and begged for pardon ; which
Richard, who could be kind only to be cruel, not only granted, but also with it
a charter of manumission ; and so the people dispersed to their homes. Soor
after Richard found himself at the head of 40,000 men, whilst the strength of the
insurrection had completely melted away. That was the time to show what hel
really meant ; so the villeins were informed their charters of freedom mean
nothing ; and then began the executions with all their horrors. To that time ill
is supposed we owe the worse than savage custom, only so lately disused amon
us, of hanging in chains, which was done to prevent friends from carrying awa;
the dead bodies. We need hardly add to this notice of Wat Tyler and his insur
rection, that the dagger in the City arms is supposed to have been derived froni
this event. Walworth was knighted by Richard, as were three other aldermen
among whom, was Philpot, who was, therefore, evidently one among the King'
retinue during the day. Richard, in addition, granted fee-farms to the whole
worth, in Walworth's case, a hundred pounds a-year, and in each of the other
forty pounds a-year.
From the leaders of the citizens, we now turn to the conduct of the citizenij
themselves, as shown in another insurrection of a scarcely less memorable cha
racter in the following century. Jack Cade's. There is little doubt that in al
the large towns and cities, those nuclei of the more liberal opinions of the age
the wrongs on which the insurrection was based were pretty generally acknow
lodged, and therefore the attempt at remedy sympathised with. As a prooi
Cade was received by the citizens of the metropolis in a friendly spirit, and enter
tained by some of the more eminent of them with great hospitality ; Avhich h
returned by robbing the entertainers. The houses of Malpas, an alderman, an(
Gerstie, were, it appears, both spoiled by him, as an after-dinner amusement
That the citizens generally might be left in no doubt as to the character of thei
guest, many of them were obliged to pay heavy fines for the safety of their Uve
MILITARY LONDON.
327
and goods, which, after all, were found to be anything but safe. The citizens
mow determined to show Jack Cade that if he thought they had been frightened
into admitting him, he was labouring under a great mistake. His head-quarters
were in Southward, where he was accustomed to retire after the a'Teeable pro-
ceedings of the day in investigating the truth of the popular notion as to the
jwealth of London. Lord Scales then held the Tower for the King, Henry VI.
to him the citizens sent secretly for a leader, and presently one of the ablest
soldiers of the time, the veteran Matthew Gough, was among them. It was then
Sunday night. Silently, towards and over the old Bridge, now poured the dense
array of the citizens, with the determination to keep the passage against all the
multitudes encamped on the other side of the water. Part of the brid"-e-way,
re may observe, lay over a drawbridge situated near the Southwark extremity ;
[but the machinery had been previously destroyed by Cade, when he first entered
iOndon, so that it could not be used. Quietly as these arrangements had been
lade, and little as the insurgents anticipated any such opposition to their re-
mtry, the news reached them two or three hours after midnight, and without a
noment's loss of time they seized their arms and hurried to the Brido-e, headed.
)y Cade himself. And now began a desperate fight. The shock of the ad-
vancing assailants was tremendous, but firmly met, and resisted ; every step
brained was dearly paid for ; the mass of combatants heaved to and fro, scarcely
:nowing friend from enemy in the terrible darkness, but each man strikin^r and
)ressing forwards through the opposing multitude. And strangely shifted the
jhances of the battle from side to side ; now were the assailants up to the verv
Irawbridge on one side, presently again they were retreating beyond the
I' stoops " into Southwark on the other ; where Gough, who was praying
jarnestly for the day to come, kept the citizens from following them, seeing how
gallantly the insurgents fought, hov/ numerous their numbers, and the conse-
[uent danger of their out-manceuvring, or even altogether overwhelming, his
little band of civic heroes in the darkness. And as hour after hour advanced,
iercer and fiercer grew the fight. At last, in one united and perfectly irresistible
[tream, the men of Kent forced those of London back — step by step — it was like
loving a mountain — but still back — to the drawbridge; but there the citizens,
ledoubling their energies, kept them awhile at bay ; — one leader after another
;11 — Matthew Gough himself was seen to drop dead ; then back further still they
rere driven ; and the insurgents began to fire the houses on the Bridge, where men,
romen, and children were stifled in the smoke, or burnt in the flames, killed by the
[word as they rushed out by the doors, or drowned as they leapt from the windows^
leir cries of agony swelling and sharpening the hoarser clamour of the com-
batants. Still back the citizens were irresistibly impelled, till the very extremity of
le Bridge was reached ; a moment more and London had been given up to pillage
Ind sack, and all the worst horrors that ever scourged or disgraced humanity,
jhen, despair itself lending new strength, the tide was at length arrested, then
)lled back, in its turn, to its source;— the heroic citizens were again masters of
le Bridge. For six hours did this memorable engagement last, during which
[early all that we have described was repeated over and over again, and with
treat loss of life on both sides, till both parties growing faint and weary, a cessa-
Ion of hostilities took place at nine in the morning, on the understanding that
oOQ
28 LONDON.
the men of Kent were not to come into the Cit), nor the men of London to go
into Southwark. Excellent citizens ! they not only beat their adversaries with
their hands, but with their heads. This was truly reciprocity all on one side ;
giving the Londoners exactly what they had fought for. But we suppose it
sounded well, that agreement not to go over into Southwark, so there the matter
ended. The old game of promising, without the intention of performing, was then
again successfully tried by the government ; the insurgents became divided among
themselves, and— a prey. We need not follow their fate further.
And now for a Military Gala-day; with a few words on the Martial exercises
of old Military London. During the reign of Henry VIIL the names of all the
male population of the City, between the ages of 16 and 60, w^ere registered
and accounts taken of their "harness" and weapons of war, and a general muster
or review took place before the King. And truly the exhibition must have been
m the highest degree picturesque and splendid. The number of the armed
citizens is not mentioned, but it must have been very large (we read of 15,000
on another and later occasion in the same reign), and these were all arrayed in
white harness, or armour, white coats and breeches, white caps and feathers.
Their chief oiiicers, the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, Recorder, and Sheriffs, were still
more sumptuously adorned. These too had their white harness ; but over that
they wore coats of black velvet, embroidered (probably in silver) with the arms
of the City. They had also black velvet caps on their heads, and gilt battle-axes
— no toys with such men — in their hands. Each wore a gold chain of great
weight and price. Their horses were caparisoned in the richest manner. Fol-
lowing each Alderman and the Recorder were four halbertiers, in white silk
or buff coats, and carrying gilt halberts; whilst the Lord Mayor's attendants
formed a troop alone, dressed in crimson velvet and cloth of gold. First came his
two jjages, riding on beautiful horses, their superb trappings almost sweeping the
ground ; one of these carried the helmet, the other the pole-axe, both richly
gilded. Then came five footmen, dressed from head to foot in white satin ; and
lastly sixteen attendants, all picked men, gorgeously habited in white satin
doublets, caps and feathers, chains of gold, and bearing long gilt halberts. As
the framework to this rich picture, there were the King and his nobles,
magnificent of course, and the great body of citizens not engaged in the armed
array, most of the wealthier among them clad in white satin, or white silk coats, i
wearing chains of gold, and in some cases rich jewels. This muster took place in|
1532. As to the mode and principles of training, we have already incidentally}
seen that the citizens were accustomed to rely on orderly array as one of the I
<^'-rand essentials. In minor details the exercises in use toward the close ofi
the century apy^ear to have been of a very complex and, considering the
weight of the armour worn during them — back and breast plate, scull-cap, sword
and musket, and bandoliers, — a very arduous character. The ponderous match-
lock of the time could only be loaded, primed, and fired during the performance
of a lonsr series of manoeuvres. To accustom the new recruit to the recoil of his
piece, and to give him gradual confidence in the use of it, at first a little powder
only was flashed in the pan. As the use of wadding to keep in the ball was not
yet understood, he could only fire usefully breast higli ; and this he was taught tc
do in the act of advancing, lest he should himself be marked out by the encm)
MILITARY LONDON. 329
while taking aim. The pike was a most formidable weapon, of pliant ash, some
sixteen feet long, and required continual practice in order to be used with any-
thing like skill or effect.
In the year 1585 we first hear of the Artillery Company. The time was one
of great excitement : the Spanish Armada was then hanging like a vast cloud
over the political horizon, and all men's minds were earnestly discussintj- how
. they might best avert the danger. Foremost ever at such times, the Londoners
now surpassed all their former doings. Among the merchants there were many
able soldiers who had served abroad; these seem to have led the way in the form-
ation of an association of citizens of similar rank, who submitted themselves
voluntarily to continual exercise and study of the theory and practice of war
with the view of being able to train and command on emergencies large bodies of
their fellow-citizens. Within the first two years they numbered above three
hundred members, '' very sufficient and skilful to train and teach common
soldiers the managing of their pieces, pikes, and halberts, to march, countermarch,
and ring." A pleasant evidence of the spirit in which they congregated is given
by their custom of letting every man serve by turns every office, from the cor-
poral's up to the captain's. And as the Armada grew more and more a reality,
every month bringing fresh news of its advancing state, plenty of work was found
for these merchants of the Artillery Company. The City furnished no less than
10,000 men for the public defence, who were officered chiefly by the civic autho-
rities and the captains of the Artillery Garden ; and the government exhibited
its appreciation of this force in a marked manner : while 1000 men were sent
to the great camp at Tilbury^ the other 9000 were kept by the Queen around
herself as a part of the army appointed for her protection, and which was com-
manded by Lord Hunsdon. The raising of this body was undertaken by the
several wards of the City, each sending a certain number of soldiers in proportion
to its wealth and rank. Farringdon Ward Without stands at the head of the list ;
this sent no less than 1264 men, namely, 398 shot or fire arms, 318 corselets with
pikes, 18 corselets with bills, 159 calivers, 106 bows, 212 pikes^ 53 bills; and the
composition of this body shows with sufficient accuracy the composition of the
whole 10,000, or, in other words, the composition of an English infantry army in
the sixteenth century. Thus much for the field strength. At the same time
(1587) the City supplied the Queen with sixteen of the largest ships in the
Thames, and with four pinnaces or light frigates, all completely furnished,
armed, manned, and victualled, at its own expense ; and even this powerful fleet
was further increased^ when the Armada did actually set out^ to the entire number
of thirty-eight ships.
The discomfiture of this gigantic expedition caused the assemblies in the Artillery
Garden for a time to be neglected; but in or about 1610, Philip Hudson, lieutenant
of the Company, revived them Avith considerable eclat. Country gentlemen, ambi-
tious to shine in the discipline of these trained bands, flocked hither : the courtiers
condescended to nod approval. Prince, afterv/ards King, Charles became their
patron. Six thousand volunteers were at one time on the list. A beautiful stand
of 500 arms was purchased, and an armoury built. The Garden was situated in
Bishopsgate Street, on the spot now occupied by Sun Street, Fort Street, Artil-
lery Street, and Artillery Lane, But as the Company about this time had an
330 LONDON.
historian of its own, and he a poct^ we must not presume to describe the history
of the Garden in any but his words, which were evidently written immediately
after the erection of the building just named : —
" This fabric was by Mars's soldiers framed,
And Mars's armouries this building named.
It holds five hundred arms, to furnish those
That love their sovereign and will daunt his foes.
They spend their time and do not care for cost ;
To learn the use of arms, there 's nothing lost."
So much for the Armoury. Now for the Garden.
" The ground whereon this building now doth stand
The teazel"'" ground hath heretofore been named.
And William, Prior of the Hospital,
That of our blessed Lady, well we call
St. Mary Spittle, without Bisliopsgate,
Did pass it by indenture bearing date
January's third day, in Henry's time,
Th' eighth of that name ; — the convent did conjoin
Unto the guild of all artillery,
Cross-bows, hand guns, and of archer}''.
For full three hundred years excepting three :
The time remaining we shall never see.
Now have the noble council of our King
Confirmed the same; and under Charles's wing
We now do exercise, and of that little
Teazel of ground we enlarge St. Mary Spittle ;
Trees we cut down, and gardens added to it;
Thanks to the lords that gave us leave to do it," &c.
Mat^ischallus Petoive composuit.
As the more regular prose historian of the Company, Highmore, observes, we
may see from these verses, '' there was not wanting mental as well as personal
ardour to support their cause ;" nay, we even subscribe to his remark, that,
'* considering the early period in which they were composed," when nothing
better than a book of Canterbury Tales, a Faery Queene, or a Hamlet, had
appeared, " that they may be not unworthily preserved." We have all heard of
the wish — Oh, that mine enemy would write a book; if he be an antiquarian, by
all means let us add, and Oh let that book be in poetry ! In 1641 the Com-
pany removed to their present home, a plot of ground leased to them by the
City, in consequence of some unusually gratifying exhibition of their skill before
the citizens in Merchant Taylors' Hall. This ground, prior to 1498, was covered
with gardens and orchards, and called Bunhill Fields ; in that year it was con-
verted into a spacious area for the use of the London Archers. On the decline
of archery, the close was surrounded by a wall, and used by the gunners of the
Tower for their weekly practice of firing against a butt of earth. At the time of
their removal, busier than ever became the scenes in the exercising ground. At
no period of the metropolitan history had weightier considerations occupied the
minds of the citizens of London ; the Armada even seemed to grow trivial in
comj)arison. In a large, thickly populated, wealthy, brave, and martial country,
* It was called the Teazel Close from the plant formerly grown there, used for raising the nap on woollen cloth,
and which forms so important an article in the same manufacture at present.
MILITARY LONDON. 331
unclislracted by internal dissensions, successful invasion must be at all times
exceedingly difficult, almost impossible ; and such was the position of En<rland
when the Armada threatened. Great sacrifices might have had to be made in
resisting ; but there could hardly be a doubt from the first, in the eyes of an
intelligent bystander, that England would successfully resist. But now Eng-
land was to be divided against itself, through all its length and breadth county
against county, city against city, friends, fathers, brothers, and sons, each against
each. Here too, was no one straightforward object to be obtained by either
party, such as the taking of this castle or that place; it was to be a war of prin-
ciples, which might lead men they knew not whither, through interminable years
of warfare, to end perhaps in a despotism, perhaps in a republic. And through all
the eventful period that now commenced, the City, having chosen its side, (the
popular one as usual), did not simply show itself worthy of its former reputation,
but achieved new glories, that won even from its bitterest enemies an almost en-
thusiastic approbation. A large proportion too, of the trained bands, as they were
called, were new men ; not previously accustomed to join in the regular exercises of
the Artillery Company, or even in the more general musters of the City Militia
once a year, or the separate Companies' musters, which occurred four times in the
year, and lasted each for two days. The Puritans, in short, looked with abhor-
rence at the meetings in the Artillery Garden, as consisting of men too profane
and wicked for their saintships. But no sooner did their preachers begin to
show them from the pulpits that the spiritual battle they were about to light
must be decided by carnal weapons, than they soon rushed to the exercises, and
though, no doubt, many a laugh greeted their lirst attempts, there was no laughing
long at men so terribly in earnest. The Cavaliers said it took two years to teach a
Puritan to discharge a musket without winking ; but they were mistaken ; it did
not take the majority of them so long a time even to enable them to return the jest
with a fearful amount of interest. At an early period of the dispute the trained
bands of London were placed under the command of Serjeant-Major Skippon, one
of the most popular, brave, and zealous of commanders, who had raised himself
by his merit from the rank of a common soldier to that of captain. Charles
made numerous attempts at first to keep, and subsequently to regain to his
cause, the people of London, but in vain. In May, 1642, or but three months
before Charles erected his standard at Nottingham, it became evident to the
whole country that London was heart and soul with the Parliament : a general
muster then took place in Finsbury Fields, where six regiments appeared under
arms, comprising 8000 men, all officered by men of known devotion to the Par-
liament, and headed by Skippon. To witness the review, tents were pitched for
the accommodation of both Houses of Parliam.ent; and the whole ended in a
sumptuous dinner given by the City to all the chief persons concerned. The
storm rolled on, and in the following month new preparations were made : Guild-
hall then presented a remarkable aspect. In obedience to the orders of Parlia-
ment, orders that willing spirits alone would have obeyed, people in London,
and from the country around for eighty miles, flocked thither with all the money
they could spare to lend in support of the cause : arms and horses were also
desired and supplied ; and those who had none of these things were bidden to
provide what they could — plate, jewels, valuables of every kind down to the
332 ; LONDON.
smallest trifle. '^ Not only/' says the historian May, ''the wealthiest citizens
and gentlemen who were near dwellers brought in their large bags and goblets,
but the poorer sort, like that widow in the gospel, presented their mites also ;
insomuch that it was a common jeer of men disaffected to the cause to call this
the thimhle and bodkin arinyT The first occasion of the trained bands being
drawn forth gave little opportunity for testing the quality of the soldiers thus
ridiculed. This was when Charles, taking advantage of a November fog, and
of the circum.stance that the Parliamentarians were deliberating on some proposal
he had made to them the day before, never dreaming he would play them such a
trick, caused Prince Rupert to advance unexpectedly from Colnbrook to Brentford,
hoping he might force his way suddenly into London ; but at Brentford the broken
regiment of Colonel Hollis received him like a wall of iron, and delayed the entire
royalist army so long that the regiments of Hampden and Lord Brooke had time
to come to HoUis's assistance. The united body suffered greatly, but yielded not
an inch ; so there the royalists were content to stay for the night; which in London
and on the road was a very busy one. In vast numbers the citizens poured forth,
headed by Skippon, who, although entirely illiterate, knew how to address his
soldiers with an effect that a Hannibal might have envied. *' Come^ my boys,
my brave boys," said he on the present occasion, '' let us pray heartily and fight
heartily. I will run the same fortunes and hazards with you. Remember the
cause is for God, and for the defence of yourselves, your wives, and children.
Come, my honest, brave boys, pray heartily and fight heartily, and God will
bless us.' '' And thus," continues Whitelock, " he went all along with the
soldiers, talking to them, sometimes with one company, sometimes with another ;
and the soldiers seemed to be more taken with it than with a set oration." To
make them all very comfortable, it appears their wives and friends in the City
sent after them many cart-loads of wines and provisions to Turnham Green, with
which the next day, as the armies faced each other inactive, the soldiers made
merry ; and, as Whitelock observes, they grew merrier still when they heard that
the King and all his army were in full retreat. This alarm over, a rumour of a
second attack was shortly after bruited abroad ; when the Londoners gave a new
specimen of what they could do for the cause. They determined to fortify the
City ; and they carried out their determination in a most characteristic style ;
gentlemen of the best quality, knights and others, even ladies, took spades and
mattocks in hand, and went with drums beating to the works ; which put such
spirits into the hearts of the general mass of labourers, that in an almost incre-
dibly short space of time entrenchments twelve miles round were thrown up.*
Fresh bodies of troops, horse and foot, were now raised under the name of auxi-
liary regiments ; and soon after, a part of these, joined to two regiments of trained
bands, were engaged at length in the open field, and had an opportunity afforded
them of replying to all the Cavalier ridicule of the courage and military prowess
of these London recruits — these apprentices, artisans, and shopkeepers. That
was at the battle of Newbury. And what says Clarendon, the royalist historian,
of their conduct in it ? Why, that men, relying ''on their inexperience of danger,
or of any kind of service beyond the easy practice of their posture in the Artillery
■••' See the Plan of these Works in Vol. II. p. 104.
MILITARY LONDON.
333
Gardens," had held them too cheap; for thcj^now " behaved themselves to wonder,
and icere in truth the preservation of the army that day ; for they stood as a bulwark
and a rampire to defend the rest ; and when their wings of horse were scattered
and dispersed, kept their ground so steadily, that though Prince Rupert himself
led up the choice horse [which he elsewhere says no other troops in the kingdom
had been able to withstand] to charge them, and endured their storm of small
shot, he could make no impression upon their stand of pikes, but was forced to
wheel about." This was the first important blow struck at the King's power, and
it was indeed a severe one. He lost fifteen hundred men, and many officers of
rank, including three accomplished noblemen, the Earls of Sunderland and Car-
narvon, and the Secretary of State, the lamented Lord Falkland. Worst of all he
must have felt the moral injury done to his cause by the result of such a battle.
And for the whole he was, as we have seen, in the main indebted to the citizens
of the metropolis.
[Review of Voli\nteers by George III. at Hounslow.]
The only remaining occasions of importance since the Civil War fur the exhi-
bition of the military capabilities of London that we can mention were the wars
during the latter part of the last and the early part of the present centuries. In
the former of these periods the military arrangements were materially changed by
the passing of an Act for the raising of two regiments of militia in the city; the
Staff of this force, called the Eoyal London Militia, is alone now kept up, under
its Colonel, Sir Stephen Claudius Hunter, Bart, and Alderman. Of course such
provision was merely for ordinary times. During the extraordinary period of the
n
334 LONDON.
wars with tlio French RepuLlicans, and subsequently witli Napoleon, the old fire
blazed out with all its former intensity. Armed associations sprung up in every
quarter of the metropolis; till the citizens of London and Westminster, and
parishes immediately adjacent, raised a volunteer force of above 27,000 men. In
addition to this, and the militia, and the Artillery Company, all the great Go-
vernment establishments became so many strongholds, garrisoned by the clerks
and servants, constantly in preparation for siege. The East India House had a
little army, 1676 strong, formed into four regiments of foot and one of horse;
the Bank had a regiment of 546 men, with a supplementary corps of 189; the
Excise Office a regiment numbering 590, and the Custom House a regiment
numbering nearly 400 men.
In the Company's Hall and Armoury there is nothing demanding lengthened
notice. The former is in process of rebuilding, and the latter is much the sort of
place our readers will imagine an armoury must be — hung round with breast-
plates, helmets, and drums, and containing plenty of guns, swords, and bayonets,
presented by different members of the Company, all handsomely displayed. The
Company has received various royal patents, but essentially it is based on the
principle of its own thorough independence, paying all its own expenses of
clothing, arms, and ammunition, making its own rules, choosing its own officers.
Of course it does not form one of the 89 City Companies, though in most of its
arrangements imitating them ; it is governed, for instance, by a Court of Assist-
ants; and has been accustomed, apparently, to exercise similar jurisdiction over
the private conduct of its members: of which one odd example occurs in the
Company's records under the date of 1670 : '• The name of John Currey, for his
unmanly action in biting off his wife's nose, was ordered to be razed out of the
Company's great book." The members are persons of respectability and wealth,
and do not now exceed, we believe, 250 in number. Their Garden has enjoyed
some reputation in connection with other than military subjects. In the last cen-
tury it was the chief place for the settlement of cricket-matches, when county met
county, and great was the tug of the sportive war. Here too in November, 1783,
the first balloon was launched into the air from English ground by Count Zam-
beccari, no one ascending with it; the balloon measured ten feet, and was
afterwards found near Petworth, forty-eight miles from London. And in the
following year the first balloon ascended with living beings in England from this
Garden. This was the machine of M. Lunardi, whose account, as preserved in
the books of the Company, taken down probably from his own mouth as he
delivered it before the Court of Assistants, when he dined with them two days
after, is deeply interesting. We extract the commencement, descriptive of his
ascent, which was attended not only by all the natural anxieties incident to an
experiment then so full of danger, but by accidental circumstances calculated to
disarm the strongest nerves of their tone. He says that '^ a short time before he
set off, while he was in the house, somebody told him that his balloon was burst,
and all was ruined, which so agitated and confused his spirits, that he could not
recover himself; his chagrin was considerably increased by the disappointment
he suffered from the inability of the balloon to carry his companion : being
obliged, however, to content himself with the company of a dog, cat, and pigeon,
he prepared himself for his journey, taking with him two fowls, and two bottles
MILITARY LONDON. 335
of wine, a compass, and a thermometer that stood at 61° upon the earth. Ever}^-
thin^ heing ready, he desired the people to leave his gallery, and, throwing out
some ballast, he began to ascend, but was exceedingly alarmed when he found
himself sinking again, and, hastily casting over some more ballast, he ascended
readily, and felt himself perfectly easy and satisfied as soon as he was clear of the
houses. He then waved his flag, and dropped it, as a token of his safety ; after
which he applied himself to his oars, but, unfortunately, one of them slipping
out of its fastenings, he lost it ; he continued, however, to work one with great
success, finding he could raise or lower himself by that only, and did not doubt
doing it with perfect ease when properly provided with both. He was much
pleased with the success of the experiment ; but, growing tired, he rested from
his oar, and took a glass of wine, and (being supplied with the necessary utensils)
wrote a letter, which, having folded up, he fastened it with a hair-pin to a napkin,
and threw it down. He was now, and had been for some time, stationary. With
respect to height, the thermometer standing at 50°, he for a short time indulged
himself with a prospect beautiful beyond description ; for at this height M.
Lunardi could clearly distinguish every object; and the distance from the earth,
by enlarging the field, greatly added to the grandeur of the scene. The appear-
ance of London had an amazing effect, in which St. Paul's was majestically con-
spicuous, and the winding Thames, with its shipping, rendered the whole beau-
tifully romantic and picturesque."
In conclusion, we must observe, that our object in the foregoing paper has
been rather to give some adequate and systematic view of the courage, address,
skill, and liberality of the citizens of London from the earliest times, and of the
mighty influence which they have in consequence exerted over the destinies of the
country, looked at simply in a military point of view, rather than to attempt what
with our space was neither practicable nor desirable, namely, to enumerate all
the great events in which they have been prominently engaged. We have,
therefore, said nothing of their fortifying the City with iron chains drawn athwart
the streets, in the time of the quarrel between Henry IIL and his barons, and of
the other " marvellous things " which they are then said to have done ; nor of
their answer to Edward IL, when wife, sons, brothers, cousin, as well as almost
everybody else were marching against him, and he requested supplies of men and
money — to which they replied, ''They would shut their gates against all foreign
traitors, but they would not go out of the City to fight, except they might,
according to their liberties, return home again the same day before the sun set ;"
upon hearing which Edward gave up all hope, fled, and was soon after murdered.
Almost every few years of the City's annals are signalised by events of such,
or scarcely less, importance. Thus again in 1471, whilst Henry VL was con-
fined in the Tower, and just after the battle of Barnet had decided the fate of his
dynasty, the bastard Falconbridge made a gallant but unsuccessful attempt to
rescue him, that only the more surely precipitated his death : Edward IV.
entered London one day in triumph; the next it was rumoured through all its
streets that Henry was dead. The attempted insurrections of Wyatt for the
Protestant, and Essex for his own cause, are also interesting points in the civic
ihistory, inasmuch as that both were decided in its streets, that the leaders in
'both had relied on the aid of the citizens, and not receiving it, fell. Wyatt,
336
LONDON,
it is said, would have obtained this aid but for his own folly in delaying on the
road to repair a gun-carriage, which prevented his arrival at the time that certain
friends were ready to open the gates. Before he did arrive the plan had become
known to the government, and was no longer possible. This story is the more
likely from the evident feeling of the Londoners for him, as exhibited by a body
of their soldiers, who, at the Lord Treasurer's request, were got ready in the
course of a single day, to the number of five hundred, and shipped for Graves-
end • but who no sooner reached the enemy than, moved b}^ the spirited address
of their captain, Brett, they at once joined the man they had come to oppose.
The reviews under different sovereigns would furnish also materials for many a
pleasant page, from those of Henry VIIL and Elizabeth in Greenwich Park
down to those of George III. at Hyde Park and Hounslow; but, on the whole,
we have probably said enough to show the Honour of Citizens and Worthiness
of Men (to borrow one of Stow's quaint Chapter Titles) in the conduct of the
affairs of Military London.
[SolduT of the Traiiu-rt Jl.mas, IC3S.]
[Royal Hospital of St. Katherine, Regent's Park.]
CXLVIL— ENDOWED AND MISCELLANEOUS CHARITIES,
The bustle of the streets of London, where one man jostles another in the eager-
ness of his own engrossing pursuit, hurries along even those who have no parti-
ittlar impulse to quicken their steps; but he who has time to look around him,
and time for reflection also, will see much that is calculated to raise him above
:he thronging scene by which he is surrounded. His eye catches a glimpse of
nstitutions devoted to religion, to education, or charity, which, besides having a
^laim upon his respect, show that something has been saved from the general
icramble of selfishness, for human solace and the promotion of men's best interests.
iChe church, the school, the almshouse, are evidences of the piety and worth of
hose who have gone before us, shining with mild lustre apart from the glare of
emporary and passing interests. The contemplation of their good works is
oothing to the spirits, and the oldest parts of London abound with proofs of the
)ountiful and liberal hearts of many of its former citizens. Their benevolence
.^as as varied in its objects as the individual character of men's minds ; but the
esult is that posterity is indebted to them to an extent not generally understood,
laved, as we have remarked, from the general scramble after individual owner-
hip, and set apart for public purposes, there is now an annual income of
10,000/. in London alone. The income of the royal hospitals amounts to
28,000/. a-year; that of the City companies to 85,000/.; and the parochial
harities amount to 38,000/. The endowments for the purposes of education
xceed 57,000/., or more than one-third of the total sum applicable to this object
1 the whole of England and Wales. For grammar-schools the endowments in
.ondon (included in the above sum) amount to 49,000/. a-year ; for schools not
VOL. VI. ^
338 LONDON.
classical, to 7000Z. ; besides upwards of lOOOZ. a-year devoted to the general
promotion of education. If Westminster be included, we find endowments for
general purposes of the value of 24,000/. a-year, of which about 6000Z. are for
education. If Middlesex (exclusive of London and Westminster) be added, there
is a further sum of 50,000/. a-year, of which there is 3599Z. for grammar-schools ;
and above 14,000/. for schools not classical. Altogether there is a total of
upwards of 384,000/. of the annual income arising from property in the
metropolitan county which is devoted to purposes of charity and education.
The bountiful disposition of the citizens of London is also further attested by the
numerous endowments which they have founded in every county in England.
After having acquired a fortune in London, they remembered with affection the
place of their nativity. They endowed a grammar-school or an almshouse, not
unfrequently both the one and the other ; or they bequeathed a fund to provide
bread or clothing for the poor, or perhaps for the erection of a bridge or the
repair of the roads. In this way the foundation was laid for establishments for
liberal education, which have attained an importance of which they had not the
faintest conception. When Lawrence Sheriff, grocer and citizen of London, left
the third part of a field of twenty-four acres, in the parish of Holborn, for the
endowment of a grammar-school at Kugby, it produced only 8/. a-year. This
field was called the Conduit close, and was nearly half a mile from any house.
It is now covered with buildings, and the rental exceeds 10,000/. a-year. In the
same way, and about the same time. Sir Andrew Judd founded the grammar-
school at Tunbridge, endowing it with property in the City, and also with his
" croft of pasture, with the appurtenances, called the ' Sandhills/ situate and
being on the back side of Holborn, in the parish of St. Pancras," and then valued
at 13/. 65. 8c/. This property is situated on each side of the New Koad, and
now forms a part of Judd Place and Burton Crescent. It was let in 1807 on a
lease for ninety-nine years, at 2700/. a-year. The property in Gracechurch,
which in 1558 produced only 23/. 135. Ad. a-year, was let in 1822 for 490/. Other
property, in St. Mary Axe, the rental of which was 5/. a-year in 1558, was let in
1822 for 166/. ; at which time the yearly rents of the property bequeathed by Sir
Andrew amounted to 4306/. By the advance of the country in wealth, the
charities of the citizens of London have become in many instances truly splendid
and munificent. Sir Andrew Judd's school now enjoys sixteen exhibitions of
100/. each, payable out of the founder's endowment, and tenable at any college
out of either University.
Passing by the endowments for churches and monasteries, and gifts for their
repair, to which the citizens of London were liberal contributors, we turn to an
interesting class of foundations of which there were a great number in London
before the Reformation. These were the chantries, established for the purpose
of keeping up a perpetual succession of prayers for the prosperity of some parti-
cular family while living, and the repose of the souls of those members of it who
were deceased, but especially of the founder and other persons specifically named
by him in the instrument of foundation. They were usually founded in churches
already existing, as all that was wanted was an altar with a little area before it
and space for the officiating priest, and a few appendages. After the close of the
twelfth century, when the disposition to found monasteries declined, the same
CHARITIES. 339
object was secured by the endowment of a chantr3\ Most of the old churches of
London had four or five of these chantries, and the number in old St. Paul's was
thirty or forty ; and nearly all the gifts and devises to the City companies in
Catholic times were charged with annual payments for supportino- chantries for
the souls of the respective donors. Where a chantry was not founded, the testator
bequeathed property for the celebration of his obit. This observance owed its
origin to the opinion which prevailed in Catholic times of the efficacy of prayer
in respect of the dead as well as the living. At the celebration of these obits it
was customary to distribute alms, and frequently refreshment was provided for
those who attended. Mr. Herbert remarks, in his ' History of the Twelve Livery
Companies,' that a great part of the beadle's duties before the Reformation, and
almost wholly those of the almsfolk of the Goldsmiths' Company, were connected
with the keeping of the Company's obits. The chantry services maintained by
the Merchant Tailors' Company were also numerous, and were performed at
various churches. A single notice of one of the bequests for securing the ser-
vices of the church for the donor after his decease, will be sufficiently explanatory
of the general character of the rest. Sir John Percival, late Lord Mayor, had
left property in trust to be applied for the good of his soul, and his widow, who
died six years afterwards, left eight messuages, the rents of which were to
be expended as follows : — To augment the salaries of either of the two
chantry priests singing for her deceased husband in the church of St. Mary
Wolnoth ; to the conductor for keeping the anthem ; for maintaining the beam
light ; to the sexton for ringing the bells and helping the mass priest ; to the
Lady-mass priest at the obit ; to the churchwardens for various services, as
dealing out the coals ordered for the poor by Sir John Percival ; for providing
two great wax-tapers for the sepulture ; and she ordered also that fivepence be
given to five poor people every Sunda}?^ throughout the year, to have her soul,
her husband's soul, and divers other souls in remembrance. In the celebration of
every one of the obits returned by the Company the poor were remembered. In
several instances the obit was only to be observed for a certain number of years,
varying from thirty to a hundred : in others a certain sum was to be paid to the
members of the Company who were present at the celebration of the obit. Her-
bert says that the custom in keeping most of the obits of the Drapers' Company
was for those who attended to have bread and ale in the church where the ser-
vice took place ; in some instances, however, they adjourned to the nearest
public-house. At Sir William Herriott's anniversary^ who had been Lord Mayor
[Bedesman.]
z 2
340 LONDON.
in 1481, the entry of charge '^ for brede and ale at the Swanne, in "Vanchurch
(Fenchurch) Strete, at the evensong," was only fourpence. At William
Galley's obit, who died in 1535, the twelve sisters of Elsing Spitall were to
receive four shillings for their attendance, and one shilling for their potation.
The wardens and others of the Drapers' Company present were to '' drynk with
the freres." The parson of the church where the obit took place and the church-
wardens were bound to the Company for its due performance.
An ordinance made by the Goldsmiths' Company in 1521 states that the
wardens had yearly held and kept twenty-five obits, at divers parish churches,
and went to the said obits twenty-five times, to their great hindrance and trouble
and that of the livery ; whereupon they resolved, for the time to come, to keep
yearly two obits, upon one day, at two several churches, on which occasions they
would cause to be spent upon a potation, at each of the same two obits holden in
one day, twelve shillings and sixpence. By an Act passed in 1546 the estates
out of which these observances were maintained were directed to be given up to
the king; but they do not seem to have been finally extinguished until the
first year of Edward VI., when they, as well as all payments by corporations,
mysteries, or crafts for priests' obits and lamps, were irrevocably vested in the
crown. "This," says Strype, ^'was a great blow to the corporations of London;
nor was there any way for them but to purchase and buy off their rent-charges,
and get as good pennyworths as they could of the king ; and this they did in the
third of Edward VI., by selling other of their lands to make these purchases."
Scarcely any of the property of the Companies was exempt from obligations
which had now come to be considered as superstitious ; and, according to Strype,
the re- purchasing of the lands cost the Companies 18,700/., '' which possessions,
when they had thus cleared them again, they employed to good uses, according
to the first intent of them, abating the superstition." After the time of
Edward VI. the endowments of the City Companies were generally applied, as
described by themselves, to the following objects : — '' In pensions to poore
decaied brethren ; in exhibitions to schoUers ; to their almsmen ; and to the
maintenance of a schole or scholes." The principal ancient foundations for
education in the City of London have been already noticed in various parts of
the present work.
The ordinary parochial charities of the City consist chiefly of the following
items : gifts in money, bread, clothing and fuel ; loans with and without interest
to young men beginning business ; marriage portions ; apprenticeship fees ; pay-
ments for sermons on particular days ; and there is the endowed school of the
parish, where the children are gratuitously educated and, in many instances, also
clothed, and in a few entirely maintained. In Sir John Cass's school, St. Botolph,
Aldgate, which has an income of above 1500Z. a-year, ninety children are
educated, clothed, and fed.
The number of almshouses in London is probably not far short of one hundred
and fifty. We can scarcely enumerate even the principal ones, which are chiefly
maintained out of endowments left in trust to the City Companies. A brief
notice of two or three of these institutions will give an idea of the general
character of the rest ; but, first, we must notice an establishment which is really an
almshouse, though it scarcely assumes the character of such an institution. The
CHARITIES. 341
Koyal Hospital of St. Katherine was founded in 1148 by Queen Matilda, wife of
King Stephen. The master has an income of 1200/. a-year and an ele^rant man-
sion in the Regent's Park, situated in the midst of its own pleasure-grounds. The
three brethren have each 300/. a-year, and the three sisters each 200/. The real
alms-people are non-resident, and three or four years ago two of the sisters were
non-resident also, and let their residence in the hospital at a rent of 90/. a-year
each. Queen Matilda's endowment was for a master, three brothers chaplains,
three sisters, and six poor scholars, reserving to herself and her successors, the
future queens of England, the nomination of the master upon every vacancy ;
but she granted the perpetual custody of the hospital to the monastery of the
Holy Trinity, or Christ Church, which was then in high repute. The ground on
which the hospital was built was on the east side of the Tower of London, on the
north bank of the river. The site is now occupied by St. Katherine's Docks.
In 1255 Queen Eleanor brought a suit against the monks, and acquired the cus-
tody of the hospital and its entire revenues. After the king's death she re-
founded it for a master, three brothers, three sisters, ten poor women called
bedeswomen, and six poor scholars. Her charter is dated the 5th of July, 1273.
Had not the original hospital been dissolved, St. Katherine's Hospital would now
have been the most ancient ecclesiastical community in the kingdom ; and it is
still the fourth in point of antiquity, coming after Peter House, Cambridge, and
Merton and Balliol Colleges, Oxford. The queens of England are by law the
perpetual patronesses, it being considered, say the lawyers, as part of their
dower. They nominate the master, brethren, and sisters, and may increase or
diminish their number, and alter the statutes for the government of the institu-
tion. " The Queen Dowager hath no power or jurisdiction when there is a Queen
Consort ;" but " if there is a Queen Regnant and a Queen Dowager, the latter
would have the power in preference to the Queen Regnant." In Queen Eleanor's
charter the object of her foundation is stated to be "for the health of the soul of
her late husband and of the souls of the preceding and succeeding kings and
queens." One of the priests was daily required " to sing the mass of the Holy
Virgin Mary ; another, daily to celebrate the divine service of the day, solemnly
and devoutly for the aforesaid souls." She ordained that every day throughout
the year until the 16th day of November, which was the deposition of Edmund,
the Archbishop and Confessor, there should be given, at the ordering of the
master and his successors, to twenty-four poor men, for the aforesaid souls, twelve
pence ; and on the said day of St. Edmund the Confessor, namely, the day of the
death of her husband. King Henry, there should be bestowed, in form aforesaid,
upon one thousand poor men to each a half-penny.
In 1442 privileges of a most remarkable kind were granted to St. Katherine's,
which, we may feel assured, never wanted ''a friend at court " while there was a
queen consort. The master had reported that the revenues of the hospital were
insufficient for its maintenance, on which the king, Henry VL, granted a charter
constituting a certain district in the neighbourhood of the hospital a precinct
exempt with all its inhabitants from all ecclesiastical and secular jurisdiction,
except that of the Lord Chancellor and the master of the hospital* This charter
further granted to the hospital a fair to be held on Tower Hill within the pre-
cinct every year^ for twenty-one days after St. James's Dayj aUo the assize and
342 LONDON.
assize of bread, wine, beer, and other victuals, custody of weights and measures,
civil and criminal jurisdiction ; exemption from payment of tenths or other quota
o-ranted by the clergy ; also exemption from subsidies imposed by the Commons;
and they were to have as many writs as they pleased out of the king's courts
without fee of sealing. The hospital held this precinct as its own property and
demesne, its revenues being increased by fines on renewal of leases and by ground-
rents of the houses which it contained. It is said, and with much probability,
that the intercession of Anne Boleyn with Henry VIII. saved the hospital from
dissolution. The revenues at that time appear from a survey to have amounted
to 338/. The first master appointed by Queen Elizabeth sold the privilege of
holding the fair to the City for seven hundred marks ; and he was suspected of
other peculations not very creditable to the newly reformed religion. In ] 698 Lord
Chancellor Somers, as visitor, removed the master, and drew up rules and orders
for the better government of the hospital. In 1705 a school was established for
the children of the precinct at the charge of the hospital, and after they left
school they were apprenticed and placed at service.
Early in 1824 some of the principal merchants in the City obtained the sanc-
tion of Government to apply for an Act of Parliament to construct wet- docks
between the Tower and the London Docks, a space which would include the
site of the chapel^ hospital, and entire precinct of St. Katherine ; and when the
act was obtained, the new Dock Company made compensation to the hospital,
■under the direction of Lord Chancellor Eldon, to the following amount, namely,
125,000Z. as the value of the precinct estate; 36,000Z. for building a new hospital;
2000Z. for the purchase of a site ; and several smaller sums, as compensation to
certain officers and members of the hospital, whose interests would, be affected by
removal to another situation. The precinct possessed at this time both a spi-
ritual and temporal court. The spiritual court was a royal jurisdiction for all
ecclesiastical causes within the precincts, probates of wills, &c. ; and appeals from
it could be made to the Lord Chancellor only. The officers of this court were a
registrar, ten proctors, and an apparitor. In the temporal court the high-steward
of the jurisdiction of St. Katherine's presided, and heard and determined all
disputes arising wdthin the precinct. A high-bailiff, a prothonotary, and a prison
were appendages of the court. In 1661 the number of houses within the precinct
was 731 ; in 1708 there were 850 ; and the number successively diminished to 505
in 1801, and 427 in 1821, which were inhabited by 685 families.
A site having been granted on the east side of the Regent's Park by the Com-
missioners of Woods and Forests, the new hospital buildings were erected there.
The centre consists of a chapel, with chapter-house ; and on each side of the
chapel are three houses, those on one side being for the brothers, and the others
for the sisters, with requisite offices and outbuildings, including a coach-house ;
and at each end, by the Park side, there is a lodge. The residence of the master,
on the opposite side of the carriage-road, is situated in about two acres of land
laid out in ornamental grounds and shrubberies. The ancient and interesting
monuments were transported at the expense of the Dock Company to the new
chapel, where they have been restored at an enormous expense. The cost of
setting up and restoring the monument of John Holland, Duke of Exeter, who
died in 1448, which constituted the most remarkable feature of the old hospital.
CHARITIES.
343
amounted to nearly a thousand pounds ; and no expense was spared which could
add to the embellishment of the edifice. Large sums were expended for stained
glass, and for the iron railings and walls round the premises. The well and an
ornamental pump cost many hundred pounds, and, after all, the water proved
totally unfit for use. The site is so bad, from the nature of the soil, as to have
required a very large sum for the repair of the foundations.
The affairs of the hospital are managed by the chapter, which consists of the
master, the three brothers, and the three sisters. The brothers are in holy orders,
but are not restrained from marriage; and the sisters are usually unmarried]
though instances have occurred of widows being appointed. All important busi-
ness must be transacted in the chapter-house, and by a majority of the chapter
present, as voting by proxy is not allowed. The master, brethren, and sisters
have each a vote, and the requisite majority of four must include one of each •
that is, the master, one brother, and two sisters, or the master, two sisters and
one brother. One brother is required to be in residence constantly, in order to
conduct the service in the chapel. He is assisted by a reader, who is paid 100/
a-year from the funds of the hospital. The sisters, as before stated, do not always
reside. The original number of ten bedeswomen has been increased to twenty,
and an addition made of twenty bedesmen. They are non-resident, and receive
10/. a-year for life, but have no duties to perform. The appointment of bedes-
men and bedeswomen rests solely with the master, and they are usually de-
cayed small tradespeople, old servants of good character, or other aged people.
The school is on a small scale, and contains twenty-four boys and twelve girls,
who are clothed during their continuance, and dine at the hospital every Sunday.
At a suitable age the boys are apprenticed, with a premium ; and on the girls
F going to service they receive an outfit, and a sum is deposited for them in a
savings' bank. If they conduct themselves well, both enjoy some subsequent
pecuniary benefit. The income of the hospital in 1837 was 5504/., and the ex-
penditure 4454/. The sum paid to the master, three brothers, three sisters, and
forty bedesmen and bedeswomen, amounts to 2100/. a-year. The fines on the
renewal of leases are distributed into three parts; one of which goes to the master,
one to the brethren and sisters conjointly, and one-third for repair of buildings.
The principal almshouses, properly so called, which are intended as an asylum
for the aged and infirm, are those under the management of the City Companies,
which have been benefited and brought to their present state by successive
endowments. They are intended for the liverymen and freemen of each fraternity
or their widows, and are elected by the courts of assistants. The Drapers' Alms-
houses are amongst the earliest foundations of this kind, having originated in
1522. The Merchant Tailors erected seven almshouses for fourteen poor widows
in 1593, on Tower Hill; in 1637, accommodation was provided for twelve more;
and in 1835, in consequence of the dilapidated state of the old buildings, and their
confined situation, the Company erected new almshouses at Lee, in Kent, at a cost
of 10,000/. ; and the number of almswomen is now increased to thirty. The
almshouses of the Fishmongers' Company, called St. Peter's Hospital, are situated
at Newington, opposite the Elephant and Castle, and are occupied by forty-two
poor men and women free of the Company, or widows of freemen.* The married
* A view of this Hospital is given in vol. i. p. 244 ,
344 LONDON.
people received 125. a-week, the single 7s. or 8s. ^ and 10s., according to their age
and infirmities ; and those who require a nurse enjoy 2s. a-week more, or 12s.
altogether. The almspeople also receive various gifts in money and clothing in
the course of the year. Service is performed daily in the chapel, and the chaplain
visits the almspeople when ill. A medical man is paid by the Company for
attending to their health. The hospital consists of three coiirts, with gardens
behind; and there is a dining-hall. The expenditure is about 1700Z. a-year.
Most of the almshouses of the Companies are of the same character, and it is
unnecessary to describe them further.
Whittington's College, called '' God's House " by his executors, is a superior
institution, founded in 1421 by Sir Richard Whittington, an Alderman of London,
*' for perpetual sustentation of needy and poor people.'* It is now under the
management of the Mercers' Company. The principal is a person in holy orders,
called the tutor, whose duty it is to perform service in the chapel, and *' to over-
see the husbandry of the house, and nourish charity and peace among his fellows."
Each poor person admitted is to be one '' meek of spirit, destitute of temporal
goods in other places by which he might competently live, and chaste and of good
conversation." The inmates must be single persons above fifty-five, not having
freehold property to the amount of 20/., or other property to the amount of 30/.
a-year. They receive from the funds of the college a yearly stipend of 30/.,
besides enjoying some money gifts, and the advantages of medical attendance and
the assistance of nurses. There are thirty out-pensioners, who receive 30/. a-year.
The present college, situated near Highgate Archway, was erected in 1822, at
an expense of 17,000/., and is handsomely built of stone in the collegiate style.
The annual income is nearly 5000/.
Morden College, though not situated within the limits of the metropolis, is
chiefly designed for its '' poor, honest, sober, and discreet merchants," of the
age of fifty at least, and " such as shall have lost their estates by accidents,
dangers and perils of the seas, or by any other accidents, ways, or means, in their
honest endeavour to get their living by way of merchandizing." It was founded
by Sir John Morden, in 1702, and is situated in the parish of Charlton, near
Blackheath. The building consists of a quadrangle with two wings, the north
wing containing a common hall and a common cellar under it. There is a chapel,
vestry, and burial-ground ; a common kitchen, laundry, and brew-house ; thirty-
nine dwellings for the apartments of the inmates, each comprising a sitting-room
and bed-room, with a cellar ; and those on the upper story have a small room in
addition. The chaplain and treasurer have each a garden and small close, and
the four senior fellows have each small garden plots. A common table is kept,
and a cook, butler, and other servants are maintained out of the funds of the
college. In 1828 the number of inmates was only twenty, but there are at present
thirty-nine. Their income was raised to 60/. a-year each in 1835. The Turkey
Company selected the inmates as long as it was in existence, but they are now
appointed by the East India Company. The total income of the college is about
5300/. a-year. The chaplain has a stipend of 800/. a-year, 715/. being derived
from an estate left for his especial benefit.
There are many institutions of a charitable nature which are at present chiefly
dependent upon voluntary contributions, but are gradually advancing to the
position of endowed establishments.
CHARITIES.
345
[I'rocessiou of Fivrmiisoua' Orphans at Frt'omasoas" Hal I. From Siolhaid.]
The number and magnitude of the miscellaneous charities of the metropolis
have been so often dwelt on and illustrated, that it may not be unadvisable to
look at them from a somewhat different point of aspect ; let us, then, see if their
comprehensiveness and completeness be not equally remarkable. And as the
multitude of facts with which we may have to deal will, if marshalled in all their
native simplicity, be more valuable than interesting, more weighty than attrac-
tive, suppose we endeavour to give them relief and buoyancy by the aid of a
little fiction, as to the form of the narration.
There was a family, originally of some respectability, but gradually reduced by
v^arious causes to indigence, the head of which, having a great admiration for our
London charities, determined to show his admiration by making the most of them.
And first he turned over with curious eyes the pages of his * Guide ' to see what
he could do for himself. " Hospitals, Infirmaries, Dispensaries," said he;
' Societies for Asthma, Ruptures, Ophthalmia, and scores of others of the same
kind ; I don't want any of these now. I have not had an accident lately, so I
l:an't go to the Accident Relief Society ; and I have had recent loans, so I can't
50 again as yet to the Friendly and the Philanthropic for more. Then, again, I
am no poor pious clergyman of the Established Church residing in the country;
no aged and infirm Protestant Dissenting minister, nor evangelical Dissenting
minister of inade(][uate income ; so it is useless to look for assistance to any of
346
LONDON.
those societies. Medical Benevolent Society : I am no doctor. Law Association :
I am no solicitor, in the sense they mean. Literary Fund : I am no author,
Iloyal Society of Musicians : I am no fiddler. Surely there must be something
somewhere to suit me. Let us see what there is in connection with trade. Ah !
here are Societies for the Commercial Travellers, members of the Stock Exchange,
Licensed Victuallers, Master-Bakers, Cheesemongers and Poulterers, Clock-makers,
Printers, and Bookbinders ; but, no, I can't exactly say I belong to any of those
pursuits. Alas ! Why was I not a Blue-Coat boy ? I see there is a Benevolent
Annuity Fund of Blues for the relief, not only of themselves, but also of their
wives and children. If, too, I had been a Catholic, there must have been one
among this group of charities called the Associated Catholic Charities to have
suited me : if a Jew, I might have gone into the Hospital at Mile End : if a
Jewish convert, even, to Christianity, this ' Operative ' Institution would have
taken care of me while I was learning a trade, a matter, of course, in which there
need have been no hurry. But I am a Protestant, and a decided Christian,
and neither Catholic, Jew, nor convert. Decided Christian did I say ? I have it ;
here 's the very thing, — the 'London Aged Christian Society,' for the ' permanent
relief of the decidedly Christian poor of both sexes, who have attained the age
of sixty years, and who reside within five miles of St. Paul's.' This is the very
thing; I'll see about it immediately." And no doubt he would have done so
with his accustomed zeal and industry, for no man ever worked harder than he
to avoid work, but that unexpectedly he died; characteristically observing in his
last moments that at all events his death would leave his dear children orphans,
and reminding his wife of the number of the Orphan Societies.
Were any of our readers ever eye-witnesses of the way in which orphan cases
are got up ? The rummaging through the printed Lists of Subscribers, to see
if there be any names there of persons with whom one's cousin's cousin's acquaint-
ance has at some time or other spoken ; then the canvassing of all such persons, to
obtain their votes; then as the election time approaches, if you find your orphan
has no chance for the present, lending all those votes to some other orphan who
has, to be repaid in kind, and often with interest, at another election ? Well,
our deceased lover of charities had taught his family his own tastes and habits ;
so, after due examination of the respective merits of the London Orphan, the
Female Orphan, the British Orphan, the Infant Orphan, and the Orphan Work-
ing, and passing over as unsuitable the Sailors' Female Orphan, the Merchant
Sailors' Orphan, the Incorporated Clergy Orphan, the Army Medical Officers'
Orphan, the indefatigable widow got one of her children at last into the London;
and amono- the whole 1400 which that excellent institution justly boasts at the
present moment to have sheltered and trained during its thirty-one years of use-
fulness, no better specimen of the latter has been sent forth to the world. She
entered into domestic service. The National Guardian Institution, whose business
it is to protect the London public from servants with false characters, have in
that capacity nothing to do with her, though no doubt her name is on their books
in another ; with the instinct of the family, be sure she trusts to them in the event
of sickness or destitution, that she looks to them also for that permanent provision
for her old age which the society promises to meritorious servants. Nay, it is most
likely that she is already availing herself of the annual rewards for being good
CHARITIES. 347
B^iven by the London Society for the Improvement and Encoiirag-emcnt of Female
Servants ; and that the Provisional Protection Society are accustomed to her
risits when she is out of place ; for, as she used to observe during those intervals,
f so many kind ladies and gentlemen desired to pay the expenses of her board
md lodging, why shouldn't they ?
The widow's eldest boy was unusually afflicted ; he was at once deaf, dumb,
md blind. The widow was a kind of optimist ; how could she help perceiving
;he double chance those very calamities gave her of getting him provided for,
jither at the School for the Indigent Blind near the Obelisk, or at the Deaf and
umb Asylum in the Kent Road? The which ? was a knotty question. She had
card that persons often learnt in the one, in the course of a few years, to earn
rom 7s. to 18^. per week, in the manufacture of thread, lines, baskets, and mats ;
tvhilst at the other reading and writing, nay, even ciphering and grammar, were
uccessfully taught, as well as those useful arts, by which the pupils might sub-
equently be able to earn their own livelihood. The boy's genuine misfortunes
btained him ready admittance to the latter; and the widow is already teaching
im, young as he is, to look forward to the time when he shall be fifty-five, and
bualified to become one of the 500 recipients of the ten-pound yearly annuity
ranted by Hetherington's Charity !
Looking over the ' Guide,* the widow was astonished and delighted at the
umber of the Naval Charities : another son was at once picked out to be
sailor. She saw there was the Marine Society, which benevolent Jonas
anway and the keen-sighted Justice Fielding helped to establish, ready to
I'eceive, prepare him for, and send him out to sea ; that there was the Koyal
.National Institution, to watch over and preserve his life from shipwreck ;
he Sailors' Home to receive him when he returned, if, laden with prize-money,
e was in danger of the land-sharks ; or the Distressed Sailors' Asylum,
r the Destitute Sailors' Asylum, if he were in want; or the Seamen's Hospital
ociety if he were sick; and, in short, half a dozen other societies ready to meet
ny contingency of naval life. Yes, certainly, she would have one son a sailor.
nd again she was, in course of time, successful. But the widow began to find
tilill this very slow, tedious, and harassing work, and that, what with her difficulty
o struggle on, whilst her time and strength were so occupied, what with her
creasing years, that she must now rest as contented as she could, and trust to
anage with her four remaining children, by availing herself to the utmost of
uch societies as the Charitable Sisters', who gave relief to poor aged widows
nd others; and the Widows' Friend Society, the principle of which is to help
ose only who are endeavouring to help themselves ; and so, leaving her children
shift as they might for all but food and lodging, she got along, as she thought,
iolerably well. But the laissezfaire principle is as dangerous in private as we
re beginning to perceive it to be in public life ; the widow's remaining children
ave turned out but badly. One went into business in some little way, and the
St she heard of him was that he had been thrown into prison for a trifling
ebt, and released, months afterwards, by the Society for the Discharge of persons
his position. Another boy she heard of also from the same melancholy kind
f place, but under infinitely worse circumstances ; he had been a convicted felon.
he first shock over, the widow fell back with a sense of comfort once more upon
348 LONDON.
the charities. The Prison Discipline Society in Aldermanbury had failed, in her
boy's case, in one of its objects, that of preventing crime by inspiring a dread of
punishment ; but might it not succeed in another, that of inducing the criminal
to abandon vicious pursuits for the future ? Then there was the Sheriff's Fund,
established for the very purpose of assisting such persons in a pecuniary way.
Come, matters were not so bad after all. Nay, if even nothing resulted from an
application in those quarters, there was the Eefuge for the Destitute at Hackney,
formed to make provision for criminal youth of both sexes, and thus enable them
to retrieve lost characters and positions, or to obtain good ones for the first time ;
there was the Philanthropic in the London Road, also prepared to reform criminal
boys, as well as the children of criminals. There was much enthusiasm about
the widow whenever charities were concerned : she already saw her boy safe in
the walls of the latter institution, and learning some one of the numerous trades
there taught, printing — letter-press and copper, — bookbinding, shoemaking, tai-
loring, &c. &c. ; unfortunately, when she applied, the numbers were full. And
before she could run the round of the others, a new and more appalling event to
a mother's mind occurred — her favourite daughter's absence and fall. The poor
widow ! even then charities — Charities alone in her mind, alone suggested where
she should seek the runaway. So, half- distracted, she ran from one society to
another of those who make it their care to tempt the unhappy wanderers back to
the paths of virtue from which they have strayed ; she ran from the Asylum in
Westminster to the Guardian Society in St. George's East^ from the London
Female Penitentiary at Pentonville to the Magdalen in the Blackfriars Road,
and from that again to the Maritime Penitent Female Refuge. It is to be hoped
the poor widow was only too early in her applications, and that she will yet find
her daughter within one of these admirable institutions. In the mean time she is
growing reconciled to her troubles, — the charities again are luring her on, — she
has got a strange fancy for a pension from one of the three societies, the General
Annuity, the East London Pension, or the City of London; and in order to have
still another string to her bow, was busy, when we last heard of her, inquiring
about the National Benevolent Institution in Great Russell Street; which, as it
relieved distressed persons of the middle classes without regard to sex, country,
or persuasion, must have an opening for her, she thought.
But if in tracing the views and lives of such a charity-seeking family (whose pro-
totypes, however, in a somewhat less concentrated shape, surround us on all sides)
we have borrowed pretty largely from the general list of London charities, we have
by no means exhausted the list; which, in its sphere of operations, embraces one
extensive division of charities to which we have not yet even alluded, those whose
operations are based upon a local principle, such as the county or country of the
subjects of relief; neither have we yet referred to another division of charities
designed for the assistance of the most wretched of all classes of our poor, the home-
less, bankrupts alike in heart and hope, in health and fortune. As to the former
we have Yorkshire Society Schools, the Cumberland Benevolent Institution for
indigent natives and their widows and children, Herefordshire, Somersetshire,
and Wiltshire societies for apprenticing poor children of natives of those shires.
From these we pass to the countries of Great Britain. For Scotland we have
the Highland Society to relieve distressed highlanders, and establish Gaelic
CHARITIES. 349
schools among their native hills, the Caledonian Asylum in Copenhagen Fields,
to support and educate children of indigent Scotchmen, and the Scottish Hospital,
originally founded by Charles II. For Ireland there is the Benevolent Society
of St. Patrick, educating, clothing, and apprenticing children born in London
of poor Irish parents ; and the Irish Charitable Society for relieving the parents
themselves, or, at least, distressed natives of the country. For Wales there is
the Welsh school, which maintains as well as educates the children of poor natives
born in or near the metropolis. The circle still widening, our charities now
' include the Society of Friends of Foreigners in distress, the Polish Society, the —
I but no, strange to say, our list is nearly exhausted in that division ; so turn we
I now to the other. There have been several associations in existence for a consi-
derable period aiming either to relieve the lowest class of social unfortunates, or
to divide from that class the impostors who merely profess to belong to it ; or, as
|in the Mendicity Society's instance, undertaking both those duties. The affairs
iof this institution, by far the most important of its kind in London, are of
great magnitude. In the year just closed it has received and answered no less
Ithan 38,734 applications, many of them from large families ; it has given to men-
dicants under urgent circumstances, without setting them to work, above five
hundred pounds; it has given 167,126 meals (each consisting of ten ounces of
bread and one pint of good soup, or a quarter of a pound of cheese), at a cost of
above 1300Z. ; it has employed at its own mill, or in the oakum-rooms, or at the
stone-yard, 4790 men and 1187 women, at a cost of nearly lOOOZ. Then, fur-
ther, it has investigated 4481 begging-letter cases, and reported thereon to the
respective subscribers concerned, in consequence of which, in deserving cases, con-
siderable sums have been given by the latter. Lastly, it has apprehended 1573
vagrants, of whom 1018 have been committed to prison, and the remainder dis-
charged with an admonition from the magistrates. One might almost think such
m institution was able to cope successfully with the destitution and mendicancy
)f the metropolis ; but if so, the first half-dozen yards we walk in the streets is
juite sufficient to disabuse the mind of such mistakes ; there, on the contrary, one
vould suppose, but for actual knowledge to the contrary, that there were neither
nendicity nor any other charitable societies existing for the relief of the poor
vithin fifty miles, such is the truly awful amount of misery exhibited in them to
hose who can venture to look out of their comfortable capes and coats these
i^intry days with an observing eye upon the realities that surround them,
seldom, perhaps, has such a story been heard of in any country, savage or
ivilized, as that which shocked all persons, even the most selfish, a short time
go, when it was publicly made known, but so accidentally that, for aught we
an tell, there may be many such stories yet unrevealed, that on an average there
^ere fifty persons, men, women, and children, in the last stages of hunger, naked-
ess, and disease, sleeping in the parks the whole year round ! The parks, with
lieir palaces, range after range ! with their warm luxurious drawing-rooms and
hambers ! their soft beds of down, their well-furnished tables, the very remnants
F which, to those poor shivering creatures a few yards distant, were a luxury,
)o high even to be dreamt of ! The recent or rather present movement sug-
ested by the disclosure of this appalling fact, is, of course, familiar to most of
ur readers , the result seems to be a strengthening of the capacities and increas-
350 LONDON.
ing the number of the former houses of Nightly Relief for the Poor, and the
formation of an entirely new association. The former comprise, under one
management, the central asylum, in Playhouse Yard, Whitecross Street; the
eastern asylum. East Smithfield ; and a western asylum, just about to be opened,
in Foley Place ; there is also the West-End Nightly Institution in the Edgeware
Road, which appears to be a private speculation, and which boasts in its advertise-
ments to have relieved nearly 90,000 poor within five years. The new institution
referred to seems to be partly founded on the idea of the Strangers' Friend
Society, founded so long back as 1785, for the express purpose of finding out the
distressed poor, by visiting them at their habitations, instead of assisting as usual
the more obtrusive and clamorous, and leaving the sensitive and retiring to
their fate. The new society, however, is established under the sole auspices of
the Bishop of London and the clergy of the Established Church, and sets out
Avith the object of improving the condition of the poor by means of parochial and
district visiting ; and as the objects of relief are not to be selected according to
their creed, why perhaps it is as well that the cordiality ensured by men of
kindred views working together should be obtained by such divisions of the
labourers in the broad field before them. We presume that the clergy and
religious of all denominations will follow the example set them, and be no lessl
active and liberal in the charitable than in the educational rivalry now going on.
Glorious rivalry ! happy may be its results ! It is one of the essential features
of the pursuit of the good in anything, that with whatever motives we commence!
it, we can hardly end without loving it at last simply for itself.
The press occasionally gives us some pleasant peeps into the operations of our
other charitable societies : here is one : — **^ Yesterday a deputation from the Humane
Society, consisting of Sir E. Codrington, Captain Codrington, M.P., Mr. Hawes,
M.P., &c., presented to Jean Gerret, a sailor on board the French frigate
' Cuvier,' lying off Blackwall, a silver medal, for having, at the risk of his own
life, saved a gentleman of the name of Turner from drowning, on Christmas-eve :|
the gentleman had fallen into the river from Blackwall pier." This shows us
one of the objects of the Society, namely, to honour those who have exerted them
selves in the cause of humanity ; but it also holds out pecuniary reward to those
who are more sensible to that kind of inducement for exertion in saving the lives
of apparently drowned persons. The Society itself has no less than eighteer
receiving-houses in the metropolis, all properly supplied with apparatus; and al
one of these, the principal station, by the side of the Serpentine river, a medica
attendant is always at hand during the bathing and the skating seasons ; and ar
immense number of persons have been saved on that single piece of water in con-
sequence. To be sure, if the Park authorities should ever happen to perceive
that the part in question might be drained, the bottom levelled, and the whoh
depth afterwards kept at something like four or five feet, all the expense, am
anxiety, and loss of life that does now occur would be obviated, and the Humane
Society's exertions happily rendered unnecessary there : but authorities don't gene
rally perceive these abstruse truths ; and, besides, it would be a bad precedent
there 's no saying how many of our London and all other charities might not h
got rid of entirely, if we once begin the dangerous process of tracing evils to thei
source, once commit ourselves to those presumptuous attempts at prevention fo
CHARITIES. 351
the future to which such processes are sure to lead. As a slio-ht notion of the
valuable character of the Humane Society's labours, we may mention that durino-
the past year 170 cases of recovery from drowning came under the committee's
notice; and that it distributed rewards among 156 persons. Its total receipts for
the year exceeded 2500Z. With a notice of two other societies we may conclude
miscellaneous charities of the metropolis.
At one of the annual dinners of the Literary Fund — we believe it was that of
1822 — when the Duke of York was in the chair, and an unusually brilliant assem-
blage present, among them Canning, and the French Ambassador, Chateaubriand,
an incident occurred which strongly marked the valuable nature of this charity.
The ambassador in question, who had looked with deep interest on the proceed-
ings of the day, subsequently addressed the audience, and in the course of his
speech related the following story. During the time of Napoleon's supremacy,
while so many French emigrants were in England, one of them, connected with
Hterature, suffered great distress, in consequence of the pressure of a small debt.
The case was represented to the Literary Fund by a friend (understood to be
Peltier, whom Napoleon unsuccessfully prosecuted in our law courts) and the
result was his obtaining the relief he desired, which completely saved him from
ruin. At the restoration he returned to his native country ; he was employed by
the state, rose from office to office, at last he came back to the very country where
he had been thus assisted, as ambassador, " and, gentlemen," concluded he, "' I am
that manr' It is one of the most valuable features of the society that it preserves
the greatest possible secrecy as regards the recipients of its bounty. But let us
glance, as far as we are permitted, at the operations of a single year, the one
ending February 28, 1843. In that year 46 cases were relieved, in 8 of which
grants of lOZ. each were made ; in 6, grants of 15Z. ; in 8, grants of 20/. ; in 3, grants
iof25Z. ; in 8, grants of 30Z.; in 4, grants of 40Z. ; whilst in no less than 9 there were
grants of 50Z. each assigned. Of these 46 grants, 3 were to female authors, 11 to
widows of authors (amounting to 400Z.), and 16 to or for the orphans of authors.
The classes of authors included history and biography, 5 cases ; theology and
biblical literature, 6 ; topography, 5 ; medicine, 3 ; classical learning and educa-
jtion, 6; science and art, 5; poetry, 3 ; drama, 2; fiction, 4; miscellaneous litera-
ture, 7. The rooms of the society, at the corner of Russell Street and Blooms-
jbury Square, contain two small glass cases not undeserving mention. In one
jire kept the daggers used by Blood and Parrot, at the time of their daring
jittempt on the crown deposited in the Tower, and which were bequeathed by
VIr. Newton, a great benefactor to the society, who believed himself (crro-
jieously, we understand) to be the last descendant of Sir Isaac Newton, and in
l;onsequence thought it only fitting that the Literary Fund should be the re-
ipient of his bounty. The other glass case contains a part of an original MS.
if Milton's ' Paradise Lost' in the Icelandic tongue. Our readers will recollect
jJyron's lines —
" Still must I hear ? Shall hoarse Fitzgerald bawl
His creaking couplets in a tavern hall,
And I not sing ?"
1 which he refers to the poetical addresses with which the gentleman in question
sed frequently to regale the Literary Fund members, according to the custom
352 LONDON.
then in use ; — and some of the Literary Fund Festival Odes, by the way, have been
by men of mark ; there was one by Crabbe, another by Allan Cunningham. This
Fitzgerald, as he himself takes care to tell us in a note to an Ode, introduced the
case of the author of the Icelandic MS. to the Literary Fund as that of a clergy-
man, whose entire income amounted to about 6/. 5^. yearly, and who in the midst
of great privation had had the spirit to undertake, and the ability to accomplish, a
translation of the great Englishman's greatest work. The Fund immediately
sent him a sum of money, and the poor poet-minister in his gratitude sent back
this MS. as the most appropriate acknowledgment that it was in his power to
offer. We understand that the translation is really a noble performance, Miltonic
in its spirit and tone. There is a very meritorious society allowed to meet in the
rooms of the Literary Fund — the Society of Schoolmasters. If the following
letter (never before we believe correctly transcribed from the books of the Society),
should but be the means of aiding the Society ever so slightly, we are sure none
would rejoice more heartily than the writer of it, the present King of the French :
" The Duke of Orleans presents his compliments to Dr. Kelly, and is very sorry
that his note remained so long unanswered. It was his intention to have expressed
sooner how much he was flattered by Dr. Kelly's very obliging intimation of the
motives for which the Duke of Orleans ought to feel a particular interest for the
schoolmasters. The Duke of Orleans has in fact more motives for being attached
to that useful and respectable class of men than he believes Dr. Kelly can be
aware of; since it is not probable he should know that among the many vicissi-
tudes of fortune which fell to the lot of the Duke of Orleans is to be found that
of having been a schoolmaster. It is, however, a matter of fact that, at a time of
severe distress and persecution, the Duke of Orleans had the good luck of being
admitted as a teacher in a college, where he gave lessons regularly during the
space of eight months. The Duke of Orleans hopes, therefore, that the Society
for the Relief of Distressed Schoolmasters will permit him to tender his mite as a
fellow schoolmaster. Tioickenham, Dec. 10, 1816."
[" Highfiyer not to be Sold." Richdid Tattersall, ob. 1795, aet. 72.]
CXLVIIL— TATTERSALL'S.
The regulations which hang over the fire-place in the counting-house at Tatter-
lall's bear the date of 1780. There are few States in Europe whose laws can
)oast of so respectable an antiquity as the code of this horse-auction establish-
nent. The laws of most Continental Governments have been entirely new cast
ince that time — France has, during the interval,, had its old laws, and its no law,
ind its new law — and even at home here, where revolution has been best kept at
)ay, the innovators have been nibbling ; sometimes mashing up whole cart-loads
f penal statutes, or navigation laws, into one statute, sometimes beating out a
imple act of parliam.ent of the olden time into half-a-dozen. Amid all these
hoppings and changes the little empire of the Horse-mart, at the back of St.
jeorge's Hospital, has retained its constitution unaltered.
Such were our musings a few days ago, as with one foot on the fender, enjoying
he genial warmth of the fire, we stood perusing the above-named regulations, not
hat they were new to us, but because we had no better way of whiling away
ime at the moment. Everything about TattersalTs is in keeping with the stabiUty
idicated by the Mede-and-Persian unchangeableness of its laws. There is the
imple unpretending finish of English aristocracy about it. There is nothing of the
ith and plaster smell about it which characterises newly run-up American hotels
nd erections on our great railway lines — none of the frippery of a continental mart
VOL. VI. - A
354 LONDON.
for horses. Above all, there is not a suspicion of slang about the buildings or
any of the persons connected with it. Everything is neat, well-kept, and in good
condition, but nothing looks new (except the new subscription room). You feel
in a moment that the place and its owners belong to the established institutions
of the country — that they date from before the coronets of some titled families.
And so it is.
Richard Tattersall, the founder of the family, and of the establishment, died in
1795, at the ripe age of 72. Our information about him is more meagre than
we could have wished, for the maker of " Tattersall's '' was a remarkable man.
He was training-groom to the second and last Duke of Kingston, brother of Lady
Mary Wortley Montague, husband to Mrs. Chudleigh, doomed to an equivocal
immortality in the letters of Horace Walpole and the State Trials. After the
death of the Duke (1773), Tattersall does not appear to have entered into the
service of any other employer. Lord Bolingbroke, ex-husband of Lady Diana
Spencer (for whom vide Boswell's ^Life of Johnson,' 'passim), sold Highflyer to
Tattersall, in the beginning of 1779, for "two thousand five hundred pounds of
lawful money of Great Britain " — a long sum in those days. In the contract of
sale (published in 1824 in the thirteenth volume of the second series of the
^Sporting Magazine') Tattersall is described as "Richard Tattersall, of the
parish of St. George-in-the-Fields, liberty of Westminster, and county of Middle-
sex, gentleman ;■' from which we infer that he had previously opened his auction-
mart. A receipt of the same date is appended to the contract of sale, but we
have reason to believe that credit was given — a high testimony to Tattersall's
integrity. This horse was the foundation of Tattersall's fortune, who commenced
a stud-farm, in addition to the auction-room for horses, to which we are now about
to introduce our readers.
There is a good picture of Tattersall the First in the possession of his family —
or rather two pictures, of which it is not very well ascertained which is the original,
and which the copy. It is not a matter of much consequence, but were we to
venture on pronouncing an opinion, it would be in favour of the one from which
the engraving at the head of this article is taken. Both are clever paintings —
both have that something about them which leaves the impression that the
portrait is a likeness — but if anything there is a degree of hardness in the face
of the other, which is entirely absent from that which has been transferred to
our pages. It is a characteristic picture. The rotundity of person indicates a
man, who, in youth, had been accustomed to violent exercise ; the hale, ruddy
complexion — the almost juvenile freshness — at his advanced age, speaks of out-
of-door habits. It is a thinking face : some call its expression melancholy ; upon
us it produced more the impression of thoughtful kindness. In the picture
which we have (right or wrong) assumed, to be the copy, there is introduced
(a family tradition says at his own urgent request) below the " stud-book " a
small label bearing " Highflyer not to be sold." This attachment to the fine
animal by which he had made his fortune is expressed also by giving the name
" Highflyer Hall " to a house he built in the Isle of Ely. Take him altogether
as he appears in his portrait, Tattersall looks the ideal of a substantial yeoman,
or better class farmer of his day.
Though we have been unable to learn any incidents of Tattersall's early
(
TATTERSALLS. 355
history, his personal appearance, his high character for integrity, and his sterling
sense and benevolence, have always led us to fancy him a kind of counterpart to
John Watson, training: and riding groom to Captain Vernon, in whose service
Holcroft, author of the ' Koad to Ruin,' spent two years and a half as stable-boy
about 1757-60. What we know of John Watson is contained in the commence-
ment of an auto-biographical sketch by Holcroft — the best thing he ever wrote —
inserted in his Memoirs, published in 1816. A few extracts will convey a more
lively idea than anything else can, of the respectable grooms of that period— the
Watsons and Tattersalls : —
'' In the very height of my distress I heard that Mr. John Watson, training
and riding groom to Captain Vernon, a gentleman of acute notoriety on the turf,
and in partnership with the then Lord March, the present Duke of Queensberry,
was in want of, but just then found it difficult to procure, a stable-boy. To make
this intelligence the more welcome, the general character of John Watson was,
that, though he was one of the first grooms in Newmarket, he was remarkable
for being good tempered : yet the manner in which he disciplined his boys, though
mild, was effectual, and few were in better repute. One consequence of this, how-
ever, was, that if any lad was dismissed by John Watson, it was not easy for him to
find a place. * * * ^'' It was no difficult matter to meet with John Watson :
he was so attentive to stable-hours, that, except on extraordinary occasions, he
was always to be found. Being first careful to make myself look as much like a
stable-boy as I could, I came at the hour of four (the summer hour for opening
the afternoon stables, giving a slight feed of oats, and going out to evening
exercise), and ventured to ask if I could see John Watson. The immediate
answer was in the affirmative. John Watson came, looked at me with a serious
but good-natured countenance, and accosted me first with, ' Well, my lad, what
is your business ? I suppose I can guess ; you want a place ? ' — ' Yes, Sir.'
' Who have you lived with ? ' — ' Mr. Woodcock, in the Forest : one of your boys.
Jack Clark, brought me with him from Nottingham.' ' How came you to leave
Mr. Woodcock?' — ' I had a sad fall from an iron-grey filly that almost killed
me.' ' That is bad indeed ! — and so you left him ? ' — ' He turned me away. Sir.'
' That is honest : I like your speaking the truth. So you are come from him to me ? '
At this question I cast my eyes down, and hesitated, then fearfully answered,
'No, Sir! No!' 'What, change masters twice in so short a time?' — 'I can't
help it. Sir, if I am turned away.' This last answer made him smile. ' Where
are you now, then ? ' — ' Mr. Johnstone gave me leave to stay there with the boys
a few days.' ' That is a good sign. I suppose you mean little Mr. Johnstone at
jthe other end of the town ? '— ' Yes, Sir.' ' Well, as you have been so short a
'time in stables I am not surprised he should turn you away : he would have
everybody about him as clever as himself, they must all know their business
thoroughly. However, they must learn it somewhere. I will venture to give you
I trial, but I must first inquire at my good friends Woodcock and Johnstone.
3ome to-morrow, at nine, and I '11 give you an answer. ' * * * -"^ I ought
:o mention, that though I have spoken of Mr. Johnstone, and may do of more
jMisters among the grooms, it is only because I have forgotten their christian
lames : for, to the best of my recollection, when I was at Newmarket, it was the
nvariable practice to denominate each groom by his christian and surname,
2 A 2
356 LONDON.
unless any one had any peculiarity to distinguish him. * * * * j ]^now not
what appellations are given to grooms at Newmarket, at the present day, but at
the time I speak of, if any grooms had been called Misters, my master would
certainly have been among the number : and his constant appellation by every -
bod}^ except his own boys, who called him John, was simply John Watson."
Another incident or two will complete the picture of John Watson : — " The
stables are again open at four, and woe to him who is absent ! I never was but
once, when unfortunately Captain Vernon himself happened to arrive at New-
market. I never saw John Watson so angry with me before, or afterwards;
though even then, after giving me four or five strokes across the shoulder with
an ashen plant, he threw it away in disgust, and exclaimed, as he turned from
me, ' Damn the boy ! On such a day !' " His last appearance on Holcroft's
pages is as follows ; — " Having taken my resolution, I had to summon up my
courage to give John Watson warning ; not that I in the least suspected he would
say anything more than very well : but he had been a kind master, had relieved
me in my distress, had never imputed faults to me of which I was not guilty,
had fairly waited to give my faculties time to show themselves, and had rewarded
me with no common degree of praise when accident brought them to light. It
was, therefore, painful to leave such a master. With my cap off, and unusual
awkwardness in ray manner, I went up to him, and he, perceiving I was em-
barrassed, yet had something to say, began thus — * Well, Tom, what is the matter
now?' — ' Oh, Sir, nothing much is the matter; only I had just a word to say.'
' Well, well, don't stand about it, let me hear.' — ' Nay, Sir, it is a trifle ; I only
came to tell you I think of going to London.' ' To London ? ' — ' Yes, Sir, if you
please.' ' When do you mean to go to London ?' — ^ When my year is up, Sir.'
* To London ! What the plague has put that whim in your head?' — • I believe
you know my father is in London.' ' Well, what of that ?' — ' We have written
together, so it is resolved on.' ' Have you got a place?' — ' I don't want one,
Sir. I could not have a better place than I have.** ' And what are you to do ? ' —
' I can 't tell that yet ; but I think of being a shoemaker.' ' Pshaw, you are a
blockhead, and your father is a foolish man.' — ' He loves me very dearly. Sir,
and I love and honour him.' ' Yes, yes, I believe you are a good boy, but I tell
you, you are both doing a very foolish thing. Stay at Newmarket, and I will be
bound for it, you will make your fortune.' — ' I would rather go back to my
father, Sir, if you please.' ' Nay, then, pray take your own way.' So saying,
he turned from me with very visible chagrin, at which I felt some surprise; for
I did not imagine it would give him the least concern, should any lad in the
stables quit his service."
The traits of John Watson, which appear in these extracts from Holcroft's
simple narrative, convey a lively notion of the character and appearance of the
first-rate grooms of that day, and no one can look at the picture of Richard
Tattersall, and recollect that it was his integrity that originally made his esta-
blishment at Hyde Park Corner, without feeling convinced that he belonged to
the class of John Watsons. There is one very striking feature of their common
character — what Holcroft calls the serious look of John, and the thoughtful (or, as
many will have it, melancholy) expression of Richard's face. The truth is, that
the responsibility of the training-groom is very heavy. The animals intrusted to
,_
TATTERSALL'S. 357
his care are of themselves extremely valuable, and, from their hio-h breedino- and
keeping, delicate and liable to a thousand accidents. The sums of moncv, too,
dependent upon the state of their health, increase the constant anxiety of their
keeper. And none but a man who has a keen and ever-wakeful sense of his
responsibility can be intrusted with so valuable a charge. He must be a man,
too, who has the sense to know that honesty is the best policy; he must value his
reputation for integrity as that upon which his existence depends. It requires
both sound and deep feeling, it requires sagacity, and the power of self-control,
which constitutes force of character, to make a first-rate training-groom — the man
to whom a nobleman can confide, in perfect confidence, at once the care of a property
valuable, liable to casualties, and a source of pride to the owner. Such a man
! cannot fail to know his own value, and this knowledge lends a sturdy independence
to his character. His good sense teaches him at the same time his subordinate
position, and impresses a deferential character on his manners. Constant inter-
course with the aristocracy communicates much of their refinement to him, and
lis native good sense teaches him to adopt precisely those peculiarities which
are in keeping with his station. It is a fine character that is formed in such a
school — and the veterans of the latter half of the last century were perhaps the
inest specimens of it.
But while prattling of old Tattersall and his class, who are favourite heroes of
ours, we are keeping our readers waiting too long in the counting-room. If
they will have the goodness to step up the length of Grosvenor Place with us we
will introduce them in form.
At the south-east angle of St. George's Hospital, there is an unconspicuous
arched passage, — down that lies our way. At the bottom of the pretty rapid
iescent we have before us a tap, designated " The Turf," on the left hand,
n open gateway leading into a garden-like enclosure, with a single tree in the
lentre rising from the middle of a grass-plot, surrounded by a circular path of
ellow sand or gravel. Immediately beyond the gateway is a neat small build-
Hg, with an entry from the passage or court in which we stand, and another from
he enclosure just described. This is the subscription-room. The interior is
emarkably well-proportioned, lighted, and ventilated: it is from a design by
Vlr. George Tattersall — the ingenious author of " Sporting Architecture " — a
entleman who combines the hereditary tastes of his family with a high talent
r architectural art. The room contains merely a set of desks arranged in an
ctagonal form in the centre, where bets may be recorded or money paid over,
cartoon of Eclipse is over the fire-place. The low flight of steps at the entry to
e grass enclosure is intended and well adapted for a station whence to watch
e action of the horses shown off in it.
On our right hand (we are still standing in the passage) is a covered gateway
rough which we enter into the court-yard. The engraving at the end of this
aper conveys a tolerably just notion of its appearance as seen from under the
ateway, except that the perspective produces the impression of too extensive a
ace. The point of view, from which the drawing has been taken, is on the
I'est side of the gateway. At the back of the spectator is the old subscrip-
on-room (the new one has only been erected about a year), which deserves
visit for the sake of an excellent and characteristic portrait of Keay, many
358 LONDON.
years clerk to the establishment. It is one of those faces which one so often
meets with among the respectable portion of traders in horse-flesh in his rank in
life. What stamps this common expression upon them it were hard to say :
perhaps the favourite square massive crop of the hair above the forehead helps.
Standing at the door of the old subscription-room, the door of the dwelling-house
is on the left hand. In the parlour is that portrait of Richard Tattersall, already
mentioned, which has the inscription so honourable to his heart — '' Highflyer not
to be sold." The other, from which our engraving is taken, is in an apartment
upon the first floor, entering from the other side of the gateway. In the parlour,
which contains the '' not to be sold " portrait, is an excellent likeness (by Stubbs,
we believe) of Highflyer himself, with Highflyer Hall in the back-ground. These
are historical portraits of value in the annals of the turf. Another picture in the
room will come to be equally interesting as a memorial of the past in time — but
remote may that time be. We speak of the portrait of the present worthy repre-
sentative of Richard Tattersall, riding after the Derby stag-hounds.
We return to the court-yard. The counting-house, where we commenced these
rambling recollections, is on the opposite side of the gateway from the old sub-
scription-room, and like it facing to the yard. The quiet, gentlemanly character
which, at the outset, we attributed to the whole establishment, is here felt in
its full force. The air of the place is precisely that of the counting-house in the
City of some old '' firm," which has weathered the changes of time, passing from
father to son since the days of Queen Elizabeth. It is the pride and peculiarity
of this country, that we of the middle classes — of the industrial middle classes —
have this kind of aristocracy within our order as imposing, though more homely,
as the coroneted order itself The appearance of the clerk of the counting-
house at Tattersall's would be quite in place in the Bank of England ; and, in-
deed, the very grooms and stable-boys catch the air of the place, and without being
a whit less like their business than others of their class, are entirely free from slang
and swagger. The books of the establishment, which appear in a safe in one of
the corners, might almost furnish forth a history of the English thorough-bred
horse, for the last sixty years, of themselves. The advertisements relative to
breeding and sporting matters, and, perhaps, samples of the latest improved
patent bridles, suspended against the wall, are the only indications of the kind of
business transacted in this counting-house.
But now for the court-yard in good earnest. The domed structure in the
centre surmounts a pump. The watering trough has an elegant classical figure,
and from its side runs the pump itself — in form, a truncated cone, surmounted
by the appropriate emblem of a fox. The bust over the dome is a likeness of
George IV., ;in his eighteenth year, at which period he was a frequent visitor
at Tattersall's. Thus well nigh half a century later than the breach between
the Prince and Charles Fox, the '' guide, philosopher, and friend '' of his wild
days, is one reminded of their alliance by a juxta-position that forces an involun-
tary pain upon the beholder.
A covered way runs round three sides of the court-yard. The alley at the
further end serves as a kind oi remise for vehicles of the most miscellaneous de-
scription. That which is on our left hand, looking from the gateway, calls for
no particular remark ; that ori thq right hand, where our artist has introduced a
TATTERSALL'S. 359
horse and one or two human figures, has the counting-house at the one end, and the
auctioneer's box — the simple throne of the dynast}'- of Tattersall — on the other.
A door near the end of the side-wall, next the counting-house, admits into a
spacious, well-ventilated and lighted stable, where the horses to be disposed of
are kept in readiness on the days of auction. An open passage, to which the
entry lies between the dwelling-house and the covered way on that side of the
court-yard, has ranges of stabling on either side — every stable constructed on the
most approved modern principles, every improvement being adopted that expe-
rience recommends as conducive to the health of horses. Indeed, the stables at
Tattersall's are in some sort for the Houyhnhnm race what the crack hotels of
London are for their masters — more comfortable homes than home itself, and the
difference there is in favour of the horse — that he pays nothing extra for his
accommodation.
The reader has now a tolerably correct notion of the arrangement of the
premises. If his visit is not on a public day/ a stillness reigns throughout the
premises, very different from the bustle through the medium of which most casual
visitors are accustomed to behold it. A few grooms are standing about. A few
buyers may have dropped in, and perhaps the head or managing groom is in the
ring — the enclosed grass-plot adjoining the new subscription room — with a light
strapper breaking a horse selected from the stalls of the stables set apart for private
sales. A small knot of subscribers is gathered on the steps of the room, eyeing
the horse, and the intending purchasers, in the intervals of their talk about past
and coming matches — the progress of the education of some colt of '* high and far
descent" — or reminiscences of the two and four-footed heroes of the turf of the
olden time. There is a quiet about the place at such times that is almost rural.
The imagination, prompted by the sight and smell of stables, wings its way to the
country. The quadrangles of Oxford have not an air of more profound repose
and isolation.
Very different from this tranquillity is the appearance on public days. The
days of sale are Mondays throughout the year, and Thursdays in the height
of the season. Monday, however, is always the great day. On Friday the
horses come in from the country, on Saturday all the preliminary arrange-
ments are made, and on Monday the sale takes place. There is generally a
pretty numerous gathering on the Saturday afternoon — a still larger on Sunday
immediately before the hour for resorting to Hyde Park — and on Monday comes
the throng or confusion of business. The throng of carriages, cabs, horses,
^grooms, and tigers, in the vicinity of the arched passage, leading from Grosvenor
Place, is immense. About noon the stream of professional and amateur dealers
in horse-flesh rolls down the passage like a river in flood — " frae bank to brae/'
as a Scotchman might express himself. There is a clatter of pewter in the tap,
for grooms are thirsty customers, and the beer is good. But the main crowd
precipitates itself into the court-yard — their paces hastened on hearing the crack
of a whip, or the words " Lot 1 is up." A horse is already running his trot
between the auctioneer's box and the counting-house door. Biddings commence —
'' crack" resounds the whip, urge the spurs, and up becomes well on his haunches,
with his nose under the hammer.
But there are days in comparison with which this animated scene is a mere still-
360 LONDON.
life picture. Let us suppose that the 2000 guinea stakes have been run for, and
the winner is up as a favourite for ''the Derby.'' It is a day for re-modelling, or
for making " a book." There is flutter and bustle and excitement even in the
penetralia of the subscription room, but the hubbub in the court defies descrip-
tion . All are eager — excited — in earnest — even savage. Short and sharp are their
exclamations, and in a language which the disciples of Irving might have been
excused had they mistaken it for one of the unknown tongues. "Hedging" —
" levanting " — '' a hundred ponies to one " — and a triple-bob-major rung on all
the devil-may-care names of the whole list of horses entered for the Derby. This
is the augury of coming events, but what passes when *' the struggle is over, the
victory won ?" — why, in the words of an older and better song, '' there 's nobody
knows" — at least nobody but the initiated. On the awful *' settling day " the
doors are shut on the profanum vulgus, and the betters pay, receive, or make them-
selves scarce, among themselves. It is quite useless for any one who has not the
entree to attempt to catch a notion of what passes. But scandal-mongers do say
that a peculiar school of philosophers, great observers of life, may be observed
on such days hovering in the neighbourhood — the sheriff's officers for the county
of Middlesex.
The attendants, both on show and sale days, are a motley group; for though
the owner of the premises is a gentleman, and though it may be charitably
hoped that most of his customers deserve the same character, yet a horse-mart,
like a court of law, must admit all sorts of company. And, if all tales be true, the
comparison between a horse-mart and a court of law runs on all fours, which
similes very rarely do. The nucleus of the company at Tattersall's consists of
the regular supporters of the establishment — subscribers to the rooms — gentle-
men on the turf, and frequenters of Melton Mowbray — parties who frequently
have horses to buy or sell — runners of horses, betters on horses, or breeders of
horses. Some there are w^ho merely keep a running horse or two, but rarely bet
— though it is impossible to withstand at times the desire to nibble ; and betting
is like tippling — it is easier to be a teetotaller than a rational temperance man.
Some merely back and bet on iheiv friends horses : these are of two classes — the
men who never had horses, and the men who can keep them no longer. It is
among these chiefly that the mosstroopers of the Turf are found — the dwellers
in the debateable land between the blackleg and the gentleman. Still they are
decidedly on the daylight side of the hedge, though often in sad danger of
slipping through its gaps. The owner (or lease-holder) of your stud- farm for
thorough-breds comes here too — not that he runs horses, or even bets upon them,
but he likes to keep the progeny of his farm in view through life. He takes an
almost parental interest in their fortunes. These are the men to whom to apply
for information respecting the pedigree and character of horses : they know more
of these matters than the men of action on the course, or in the field — partly
because it is their interest to know the results of crossings and breedings, and
partly on the principle that the bystander sees most of the game. Among the
class we are now describing, there is also a sprinkling of what may be called
imaginative amateurs of horse-flesh. At the utmost one of this set never owned
more at a time than a three-fourths bred pony — what cattle-dealers would call
" a shot," not fit for the field, or even for a roadster if the rider is very particular.
TATTERSALL'S. 361
and which therefore has lost caste, though it retains enough of the marks of its
origin to give it a superior air among hackneys.^ But though this animal con-
stitutes our friend's whole stud at any given moment, he may be called the
proprietor of numerous horses, for he is continually changing his beast. The
only pleasure he appears to find in his horse is in buying or selling- him. Then
he knows all the latest gossip of the subscription-room, though he never bets;
and he is continually looking at horses, and giving his opinion of them, which is
civilly listened to, but never taken. He reads the Sporting Magazine regularly,
has some book of farriery, and the Useful Knowledge Society's book on the
horse by heart. In short, he is perfect in the theory of sporting. He is mild
and gentlemanly in his manners, and rather a favourite than otherwise ; his
usual dress is a surtout of some shade of green, approaching in its cut and fit to
the '' pink" of the hunter, cords, and top-boots.
Next in consequence to these are the trustworthy jockeys and grooms, a set
which still retain many of the characteristics of John Watson, but, according to
their place in the scale, are marked by various peculiarities. Some of the most
mercurial are constantly run away with by strong animal propensities, and it
requires strong pulling up from time to time to enable them to avoid losing caste
altogether. Nothing could save some of them occasionally but their unrivalled
skill in riding, their passionate love for the horse, which renders them incapable
of cheating it, though they might have less scruple about its master, and a
fund of practical drollery. They are your " chartered libertines," and not a few
of them look the character — for sometimes what an artist would call defects in
structure are the making of a jockey. A long fork, and scarcely any body, are not
the ideal of the human form divine, yet they give the man who owns them great
advantages on horseback, and he may carry weight naturally in the shape of a
hump, or have nose and chin meeting like nutcrackers, and be never the worse
rider. We have known in our day not a few of these whom their better qualities
kept in employment, while their foibles, continually getting them into scrapes,
prevented them from rising. One tiny individual, with bandy legs, we do
remember in his old age, sitting by the door of the cottage his master had
assigned him, listening to the tuneful cry of the pack he was never again to
follow as it died away in the distance; and another scarcely so old — still able to
act as huntsman to a pack of harriers, who could never, even when the hare
was on foot, pass a tempting bunch of water-cresses without slipping off to
pick a salad. Marry ! his overnight potations might render some such cooling
necessary.
Around these two essential constituent parts of the assembly gather the non-
:descripts— the casual visitors, some of them pretty frequent in their attendance
too. Young guardsmen not on guard— clerical fox-hunters come up to pay their
jrespects to the Bishop and see Tattersall's — the barman, whose habit of travel-
jling in a gig has necessarily rendered him learned in horses — the butcher, who
Irode his rounds to his master's customers as apprentice, and thus contracted a
taste for cantering— publicans who find Derby Clubs and news of the turf sure
baits to draw in customers — staid shopkeepers who go to Epsom once a year,
land to Tattersall's occasionally of a Sunday to recal the pleasures of the last trip,
or anticipate the glee of the one that is coming— and the concentrated pertness
and glib impudence of the tiger world.
362 LONDON.
k
Tattersall's gives the tone to the sporting world, and has long done so. The
confidence reposed in the integrity of the founder went far to establish it, and its
situation helped not a little. At the time when it was first opened, Tattersall's
was in a manner in the country. It stood on the townward verge of an open
and uninclosed space of ground sloping down to the stream which carries off the
superfluous waters of Hyde Park, and now rolls dark and turbid, more a sewer
than a rivulet, down by the back of the houses in Sloane Street. It was a
lonely place, '' the five fields," and where Belgrave and its adjoining squares now
stand — celebrated for nightingales and footpads. The visitations of '''the minions
of the moon '' made one feel as far out of town there as at Finchley, Bagshot, or
Hounslow. And at the same time it was centrically situated for the gay world.
The mansions of the nobility from Piccadilly to St. James's were at an easy dis-
tance ; a chain of villas stretched out towards Kensington ; the region round
Grosvenor Square was filling up; and the proximity of the mart almost invited a
visit from the idlers in the Parks.
The Prince of Wales was one of the earliest, and, for a considerable time, one
of the most regular visitors at Tattersall's. This was enough to stamp it the
ton. But the name of the proprietor was a still greater attraction to the real
earnest admirers of a good horse. From the day that the emporium was opened
down to the present^ there has not been a single eminent character in the racing
and hunting world who has not made this his lounge. And a taste for these
sports is so intimately interwoven with the habitual tastes of all classes, that we
may say there has scarcely been a man of any note in any line during that time,
who has not been found here on some occasion or another. Even gallant
Admirals have been attracted hither, and Bishops and Wilberforces have not dis-
dained to look in, in search of good carriage-horses. A strange variety of per-
sonao^es are associated within these walls : let us take a few of the first that offer.
First, in virtue of his station, and of his bust over the cupola in the centre of the
court, constantly reminding us of him, comes "the first gentleman of Europe."
We are here reminded not of the elderly gentleman with shattered nerves and a
troublesome wife, who mounted the throne after the hopes of young life had long
withered, and hid himself from his subjects ever after, but of the frank, hand-
some, and fascinating **^ rascalliest sweetest young Prince," of blooming eighteen.
Next rises to our memory Old Q., of equivocal reputation. There are many
still alive who remember his appearance at the bow-window of the house in
Piccadilly now inhabited by Lord Rosebery. Haggard he was, and feeble, as if
a breath of wind could have blown him to pieces like a spider's web ; yet the
nice tact of Hazlitt selected him to illustrate what he meant by the look of a
nobleman. Samuel Whitbread has been at Tattersall's many is the time and
oft, that sturdy representative of the cross between the feudal and trading
aristocracy of England — that compound of the patriot, theatrical amateur, con-
venticle-saint, fox-hunter, and brewer of '' good ale."' Lord Wharncliffe was
a frequenter of Tattersall's in his day, the tremendous Rhadamanthus of the
Jockey Club — at least so poor Mr. Hawkins, who fell under the ban of that Court
of Honour, appears to have felt him. Lord Wharncliffe, as Mr. Stuart Wortle}^
did good service on one occasion to the country gentlemen. When about the year
of grace 1819 Henry Hunt had made the white hat the distinguishing mark of the
radical, sore w^as the dismay among the magnates of quarter-sessions as the dog-
TATTERSALLS. 363
days approached, and not one of them dared indulge in the luxury of a white hat,
lest his principles should be suspected. But Mr. Stuart Wortley relieved them by
appearing at a county-meeting in a white hat : his politics were above suspicion,
and the unsaleable stock of all the hatters in the neighbourhood was disposed of
before nightfall.
" What tower has fallen? what star has set?
What chief come these bewailing ?"
There has one passed away from among us within these few days— almost with-
out exciting a passing question, whose death would at one time have struck a
chill wide through the land. Sir Francis Burdett had disappeared from public
life, and become almost forgotten before his death. By accident it was at Tat-
tersall's that we heard the first mention of the event, and a fitter place for
receiving such intelligence could scarcely be. Whatever men may think of the
\ wisdom of Sir Francis's public career, his character stands high as a warm-
hearted, honourable, and accomplished English gentleman — thoroughly Eno-lish.
Enthusiastically attached to field-sports, he too was a frequenter of Tattersall's
and perhaps he would have been a happier man had he contented himself tvith
dividing his life between them and the social or the studious hour, instead of
plunging into the political struggle to which he brought, after all, more ambition
! than talent. But we must break off, for shadowy figures do so environ us the
Seftons, Osbaldestons, Berkeleys, and what not — that our pages would be over-
filled did we pay to each only the passing tribute of a name.
The opening of Tattersall's marks an era in London life. About 1779 it appears
to have been opened, and the regulations bear the date of 1780. It was in 1780
that Crabbe first came to London to establish his character as a man of genius,
and then to withdraw for a long silent interval into the country, there to mature
the works that w^ere to render his name lasting. In 1780, Philip Astley was
coming into vogue, exhibiting feats of riding and sleight of hand, and teaching
Lord Thurlow's daughters to ride the horses that Tattersall had sold them. In
1783 Samuel Johnson, who has recorded his admiration of his namesake, who was
Astley 's precursor, and of Astley himself, passed from this scene of struggles.
Gilray's earliest caricature that has been preserved is a likeness of Lord North,
in 1782. It was a period when old men in literature, in fashion, and in catering
to amusement of the gay world were passing away, and new ones hurrying in to
supply their place. In none of these departments is the change from things as
they were before 1780, and things as they have been since, more marked than
among the amateurs of the turf. We have heard the period which has since
passed called by many names; but, in so far as London and its gay world are
concerned, the age of Tattersall's might be more truly descriptive than most of
them.
These retrospects almost supersede the necessity of remarking that the rank
which Tattersall's took immediately on its first establishment it has retained to
the present day. Almost the only change it has undergone is an extension of the
range of business, under the direction of the present proprietor. Edmund Tat-
tersall is the principal — we might almost say the only— dealer whom the princes
and nobles of the Continent employ to procure for them the thorough-bred
English horses, which are the pride of their studs. The arrangements on Mr.
Tattersall's stud-farm at Willcsden are among the most perfect of the kind.
364 LONDON.
We have noted already the death of the first Tattersall : it may not be without
interest for our readers if we wind up the history of the establishment with a
chronology of the establishment. The auction-mart was originally instituted by
Kichard Tattersall^ in what year is uncertain, but apparently on or before 1779,
for in the contract of sale by which he became master of Highflyer, he is de-
scribed as " Richard Tattersall in the parish of St. George and liberty of West-
minster, Middlesex, gentleman." He died on the 20th of February, 1795. He
is said by a contemporary to have "died as he lived, as tranquil in his mind, as
benevolent in his disposition." It is added that '' from his indefatigable industry
and the justice of his dealings, he acquired a degree of affluence which was exer-
cised for the general good without ostentation." Richard was succeeded by his
only son Edmund I., who walked in his father's footsteps, and maintained the
reputation of the establishment. He died on the 23rd of Januar}^, 1810, at the
age of fifty- two. He was, in turn, succeeded by Edmund II., by whom the con-
nections of the house abroad were first formed, and the foreign trade in thorough-
bred horses conducted on a scale of unprecedented extent, which it would have
gladdened the heart of jthe great Sully to contemplate, who, of all the historical
characters with whom we are acquainted, appears to have trafficked the most,
and most profitably, in horse-flesh, as may be seen in his ^' sages et royales
economies."
We are not writing a history of the Turf, or the Hunting-field, but simply
taking a stroll with our readers through the greatest and most respectable horse-
mart in England, that is, in the world, and touching as we go upon the associa-
tions of the place. We have avoided, as much as possible, the technical language
or slang of the stable, and that for two sufficient reasons. The first is, that stable-
slang can only be correctly spoken by professional gentlemen : the merest stable-
boy could detect our imperfect acquaintance with it at once. But the second is
a far more powerful reason : it is that we love and venerate the horse and all the
sports and employments in which he and man are yoke-fellows, and that we loathe
everything that vulgarises him or them, and slang, of course. Slang we can
somewhat more than tolerate in Holcroft's ' Goldfinch,' for there was originality
in the character — it was the first of the kind brought upon the stage. We can
more than tolerate it in the pages of 'Pierce Egan,' for there is truth and nature
in them ; and slang is so incorporated with his style, with his very thoughts, that
it is, in a manner, natural to him. But everywhere else it is nauseous. The
lawyers have got rid of their slang ; the conventicle has got rid of its slang ; it is
high time that the Turf and Hunting-field should get rid of their slang also.
Tattersall's, it has been remarked more than once, has given a tone to the
sporting world, and in this respect it has, probably, had a more beneficial effect
than the Jockey Club itself. That representative of the power of the organised
turf can only deal with overt acts of an ungentlemanly or dishonest character.
But Tattersall's — " the glass of fashion and the mould of form" — has set the whole
sporting-world to " assume a virtue," even when they have it not. Its influence
in this Avay has been materially promoted by the institution of the subscription-
room, which took place at a very early date subsequent to the opening of the
mart. For a while, at first, the court was the only place of meeting for all par-
ties ; but as soon as it became a place of resort for the news of the sporting-
world, it was soon found advisable to fall upon some means to keep at a distance
TATTERSALL'S. 365
the crowd of questionables. With this view the subscription-room was opened
for the accommodation of gentlemen, as the Tap had been opened for the accom-
modation of their servants. The regulations of the room have not under^'-one
any material alteration since. Its frequenters are, in a manner, the natural aris-
tocracy of Tattersall's, and the lower orders frame their manners " ad exemplar
regis/' as like those of the subscribers as possible. This has contributed in no
small degree to diffuse a recognition of the point of honour (in theory, at least)
through all ranks of sporting characters. The influence which has achieved this
might effect more ; and it is to be wished that the subscription-room at Tatter-
sail's would throw itself with all its weight into the scale of those gentlemen who
are exerting themselves so strenuously to purify the provincial race-meetings.
This is the more desirable now that horse-racing is, and ought to continue to
be, a passion with all ranks of England. There are three tastes which an
Englishman carries with him wherever he goes : he must have his newspaper, he
must have his cup of tea, and he must have his race-course. Of the two first-
mentioned we have discoursed under the head of newspapers. In proof of the last,
it only requires to be stated that Calcutta has its race-course ; the capital of
Western Australia (Swan Hiver) has its race-course ; nay, that Sierra Leone has
its race-course. For a people who could indulge in horse-racing in that universal
sepulchre, the '^ white man's grave," it must indeed be a necessary of life.
With the dog we contract friendship — for the horse w^e have a passion. Both
can and do serve us well ; but the former is a conversible associate, the other
wins our love by its stately elegance. One of the first impulses of boys is to
scramble on a horse's back — to ride the cart-horse to the water, if no better may
be — or even where a horse is not to be had, to practise the art equestrian on some
luckless, bridle-less^ and saddle-less donkey grazing on a common. The father's
i2arliest wish for his son is to inoculate him with his own taste for horses. Holcroft's
Father was a poor shoemaker, yet contrived to gratify his love of horses by keep-
ng one or two for hire. He had a favourite pony which '' required all my
^'ather's strength and skill to hold it," and yet he was determined that the child
ihould mount it, and accompany him whenever he took a ride. *' For this pur-
Dose my petticoats were discarded; and as he was fonder of me than even his
lorses, nay, or of his pony, he had straps made, and I was buckled to the saddle
vith a leading rein fastened to the muzzle of the pon}^ which he carefully held.
These rides, with the oddity of our equipage and appearance, sometimes exposed
is to the ridicule of bantering acquaintances." The wild high-spirited boy con-
rives by scraping acquaintance with ostlers — by engaging to hold horses— by all
•ut-of-the-way shifts to get the handling of horses, and at times leave to mount
ue. In this way Philip Astley (founder of the amphitheatre that bears his
lame) commenced his career; and a passage in one of Philip's prefiices (for he
^as an author as well as a performer and entrepreneur) expresses the sentiment
/hich familiarity with the horse av/akens, as well among us nurslingvs of civilised
outine, as among the unsophisticated children of the desert. *' I am extremely
jnd of such kind of horses, if good tempered, and well put together, with eyes
•right, resolute, and impudent, that will look at an object with a kind of disd^iin."
'ould he say more for the saucy tenderness of a mistress? The poor man with
s loves horses as dearly as the rich. Some gratify their predilection by seeking
?rvicc as stable-helps, or in any way that will keep them among horses. Some
366 LONDON.
enlist for the same purpose in a cavalry regiment. And they who are obliged to
seek their livelihood by less congenial pursuits have their inborn tastes annually
revived by the races — for what district of England is without its race-course?
Ten days or a fortnight before the races the horses begin to drop in — at least
this has been the case, though railroads are altering the arrangement — and take
their evening and morning exercise on the course. The stately elegance of their
forms, their glossy coats and beaming eyes, their elastic gait and powerful action,
attract a concourse of spectators. The tiny generation of the new-breeched who
see them for the first time, skulk after them to the stables, and are happy if they
can catch a peep, see how their body-clothes are managed, how they are curried
and brushed, how carefully their beds are prepared, their oats sifted and re-
sifted. The novelty of the operations, the furtive glimpse obtained of then^, are
among the things that make an impression for life. Then there is the evening
gossip, in which the grown-up exchange reminiscences of former races, and the
young crowd round to hear the names of famous runners, and tales of terrible
accidents — the amazing cunning of sharpers, and the wild justice exercised on
them by the crowd when detected — the tumult of the crowd, the eager cries of the
betters, the difficulty of keeping the course clear, the danger of being too near it,
the gaming and drinking in the booths, and the whole variety of delightful com-
motion. And when the great day comes, the reality exceeds even these high-
coloured retrospects and anticipations. The holiday in the free air is itself a
delight. The gliding, glancing equipages dashing up to take their station — the
curveting and prancing of the high-bred horses beneath their happy riders — the
concourse of all possible kinds of hacks, donkeys, coaches, chaises, gigs, and
market-carts, with their gay and grinning occupants — the interchange of greetings
— the wonder who is who — the throng and the hubbub succeeded by the gather-
ing hush as the bell rings, and sinking into the eager breathless concentration of
the multitude's thought and sense on the horses when the start is given, to break
out again in a jubilant hurra when the winner comes in, followed by a crossfire of
brief hearty ejaculations, angry, joyous, and grieving from winners and losers.
Such scenes keep alive and increase a natural taste to a universal passion ;
other field-sports give happiness to a select few, but races are our national
jubilees. Who that has seen all London jumping out of the windows on the
morning of the Derby-Da}^ — or towards evening the thronging groups congre-
gated in the streets to receive the '' express" news of victory or loss — but must
feel that, though the Porter's man in Henry VIII. was mistaken when he spoke
of sleeping on May-day morning as a thing " which will never be," yet there can
be no mistake in prophesying that there will be races as well as cakes and ale,
and ginger heating the mouth, while Englishmen and England exist. And the
people of England, in these days of drudgery, will be all the better of it.
** But then the gambling and immorality." Thank you, most long and sour-
visaged sir, for the interruption : it is the very point we wished to touch upon.
The gambling — that is the systematic trafidc in betting — the " making of books " —
is no natural or necessary part of horse-racing. It is not a "national institution,"
did not come in with William the Conqueror. We can place our finger on the
date of its introduction. " One anecdote," says Holcroft, speaking of the year
1761 or 1762, ''which John Watson, who was no babbler, told his brother Tom,
and w^hich Tom was eager enough to rcj^eat, struck me for its singularity and
TATTERSALL'S. 367
grandeur ; as it appeared to me, who knew nothing of vast money speculations,
and who know little at present. In addition to matches, plates, and other modes
of adventure, that of a sweepstakes had come into vogue ; and the opportunity
it gave to deep calculators to secure themselves from loss, by Jicdcjinn their bets,
greatly multiplied the betters, and gave uncommon animation to the sweepstakes
made. In one of these Captain Vernon [his master] had entered a colt or filly ;
and as the prize to be obtained was great, the whole stable w^as on the alert, it
was prophesied that the race would be a severe one ; for, thou^rh the horses
had none of them run before, they were all of the highest breed ; that is, their
sires and dams were in the first list of fame. As was foreseen, the contest was,
indeed, a severe one ; for it could not be decided — it was a dead-heat; but our
colt was by no means among the first. Yet so adroit was Captain Vernon in
hedging his bets, that if one of the two colts that made it a dead-heat had
beaten, our master would, on that occasion, have won ten thousand pounds : as
it was, he lost nothing, nor would in any case have lost anything. In the lan-
guage of the turf he stood ten thousand pounds to nothing.'' This systematic
gambling was new in the beginning of the reign of George III. It is an
excrescence on racing. It is only another form of gambling — that spirit which
can find vent in any way — in swimming sticks on a stream, or drawing straws
from a rick. '' Book-making " is no more a necessary part of racing than South-
Sea Bubbles and Mississippi Schemes are of finance — time-bargains in the funds
of honourable commerce — or rouge et noir tables of a modern London club.
All these, and book-making among them, are varieties of the pursuits of trading
gamesters, a numerous and permanent body in European society. Some re-
spectable men are, and have been, of this class, but taken in the lump, the^^ are
a moral nuisance, and it were well if they were " quoited " from society — sent to
Coventry en masse. They inveigle and corrupt the young and unwary of the
upper classes, and the poison of their example contaminates the low. The
example of the steady -going '' book-making " gentlemen corrupts the whole
menial circle : nor does the evil stop here. It lends a colour to one of the
f| worst features of pot-house life — the Derby clubs. Taking up on chance
the nearest at hand sporting newspaper, Ave find in its first page no less
than fifteen advertisements of these abominations. They emanate from public-
houses in all parts of the metropolis — West Smithfield,* High Holborn, the
Strand, Pimlico, Hoxton, and the London Koad — from Manchester, and from
Sheffield. They are illegal lotteries or little-goes — baits set by the cunning
publicans (the Duke Hildebrands of modern Alsatias) to catch tippling gulls—
jtraps for the unfledged apprentice and journeyman — the desolation of many a
':idy fireside. Why are these filthy and sottish gambling-houses overlooked more
ban the hells of Regent Street ?
But the root of these evils— the corruption of domestics, the conversion of our
nechanics into thieves— is in the book-making system which has been engrafted
ipon horse-racing. This can be put down. Gambling at the clubs and in
)rivate houses has, since the days of Charles James Fox, been restricted within
omparatively narrow limits : the same may be done, by a resolute effort,
ith gambling on the turf. Most praiseworthy— and, to an extent which in so
* A house in West Smltbfleld announces— ^< A juvenile Derby sweep at 10*. 6(/. each."' We recommend it to
e attention of the police.
/I
368
LONDON.
short a period could scarcely have been looked for^, most successful — efforts are
making to purify our provincial race-courses : the attempt should be extended to
the whole sporting world of England. And it is in the metropolis that the be-
ginning must be made. The Jockey Club can do little or nothing : it has allowed
itself to become the Court of Law in which the '* book-makers " carry on their
litigation. But the subscription-room at Tattersall's is frequented by the elite
of the amateurs of the turf: it sets the fashion. If its members were to pass a
resolution, and enforce it, that no systematic gambling was to be allowed among
them— that the book-makers were to be told to betake themselves to Crockford's
and Jonathan's, the proper resorts of gentlemen of their profession — the example
would in no long time spread, through the medium of the motley squad which
throngs the auction-mart to catch a glimpse of the subscribers and learn to
imitate their deportment. Racing would become the pursuit of admirers of the
horse exclusively — for the gambler cares not for the horse more than for his dice,
or scrip and omnium. There is enough of pleasurable employment — of excite-
ment— in the breeding or acquisition and training of fine horses, and the uncer-
tain contests of the course, without the spice of gambling. The patrons of the
turf can keep it, what it has always been, a source of pleasure to themselves, a
means of improving the national breeds of horses for all purposes, an annual
festival to the whole people of England, and prevent it from continuing what
it has been allowed in too great a measure to become, a source of demoralisation
to thousands. If they by their example will but diffuse a healthy distaste for
gambling through the bulk of sportsmen, the police will deal with the flash
Derby-houses : but so long as they allow undetected blacklegs — trading book-
makers— buyers and sellers of chances — to associate with and be in common
estimation confounded with themselves, there is no possibility of checking the
mischief.
.v^
[Court Yavd, Tattersall's.]
[Royal luslitution, Albemarle Stivct.]
CXLIX.— LEARNED SOCIETIES.
^HEN the character of the present era shall be judged by that calmest and most
merring of tribunals — posterity, there can be little doubt that one especial glory
i^ill be assigned to it, enhancing all its other merits, and doing much toward
xtenuating all its faults ; it will be said that then, for the first time in this
ountry, was it practically acknowledged that science, art and literature were
o mere appanages of a class, but the common birthright of all; that their
lission was not to solace a student's lonely hours, or to sharpen the dulled edge
f a rich or a great man's satiety, but, in a word, to make life universally wiser,
appier, nobler, more worthy of Him in whose image we are made, and for
hich lofty object alone religion, philosophy, and common sense, alike teach us
ich mighty agencies must have been bestowed. The nineteenth century will
robably have much to answer for, but if some such epitaph as this may be
ascribed upon its tomb, all else will be ultimately forgiven and forgotten. To
lark the progress of the mighty revolution thus accomplished were indeed a
lak of the highest interest, and one for which there were no need to depart
cm the path marked out by our present subject. We see, for instance, at first
VOL. VI. 2 B
370 LONDON.
the several streams of knowledge flowing calmly along to one common receptacle
— the Royal Societ}'', which, up to the latter half of the last century, may be said
to have confined within the circle of its own little but distinguished knot of
members a monopoly of the cultivation of learning in England; the only notice-
able exceptions being the study of antiquities, which was left to the Society of
Antiquaries, and the study of medicine, anatomy, and. surgery, which naturally
belonged to the College of Physicians, but which was at the same time included
among the multifarious and discursive researches of the Royal Society. Then
as those streams grow wider and deeper, we see them shaping out new channels
and. reservoirs ; one forming to itself a Society of Arts, another a Royal Academy,
a third a Linnsean Society. And thus matters remain up to the close of the
century. But within the next forty years the movement progresses with a
vastly accelerated, pace, and mighty are the changes consequently exhibited.
The waters of knowledge, increased and increasing from all quarters, overflow
and roll along in directions scarcely less numerous. The Royal Society may
now confine itself to matters of science alone, but not the less is it found necessary
to let every department of science have its own independent band of disciples :
hence the societies — Astronomical, Geographical, and Geological ; Zoological,
Ornithological, and Entomological ; Botanical, Horticultural, and Agricultural ;
Engineering, Mathematical, and Statistical; Legal and Philological. Next
surgery, we perceive, must have its College as well as physic ; and. when
that is obtained, both departments of the healing art demand in addition their
Harveian, and Hunterian, their Medical, and Medico-Botanical, and Royal Me-
dical and. Chirurgical Societies. The Society of Arts finds a helpmate in the
Royal Institution. The Royal Academy branches off into various artistical
bodies, whilst architecture establishes its own independence in the Architectural
Society and in the Royal Institute. Then again, if we may look upon the Anti-
quarian Society as the oldest literary body, we may compliment it upon an
extensive list of successors, of varying degrees of power and usefulness, from the
Royal Society of Literature down to the Parker Society for printing the works
of the early fathers of the Church, from the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge down to the bodies which rejoice in the prenomen of the Percy, the
Camden, the Granger, or the Shakspere. Lastly, clustering round these bodies,
and drawing nourishment from them, we find a whole host of societies whose
business it is rather to diffuse acquired than to seek new information : such are
our London and Russell Institutions for the higher and middling classes of
society, our Mechanics' Institutes for the middling and lower; of which last
species, since the establishment of the chief one by the excellent Dr. Birkbeck,
the growth has been so rapid, that scarcely a metropolitan parish or district of
any size is now without its '' literary and scientific" institution.
The history of the first of these bodies that we select for separate notice, the
Royal Society of Literature, is at once painful and interesting. It originated
in a conversation between Dr. Burgess, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury, and an
eminent person of the household of George IV., which took place in 1820, and
when it was agreed that among the numerous existing societies one seemed to be
wanting for the encouragement of general literature. The substance of this
conversation soon reached the King, and his conduct on the matter forms one of
LEARNED SOCIETIES. c7l
the most honourable features of his life. Bishop Burgess was summoned to the
royal presence, and received full powers to make the necessary arrangements for
the formation of a society of the kind desired. The first part of the plan that
was determined upon, and made public, was the olfer of prizes; namely, of a
King's premium of one hundred guineas for the best paper on the Age,
Writings, and Genius of Homer; of a Society's premium of fifty guineas for the
best poem on Dartmoor; and of another Society's premium of twenty-five
guineas fur the best paper on the History of the Ancient and Modern Languages
of Greece. We need only mention the result of the poem-premium: five com-
positions were sent in, and referred to a sub-committee of seven members, who,
at a meeting in the British Museum, adjudged the prize to the poem with the
motto "Come, bright Improvement," which was then found to be the production
of Felicia Hemans. Many difficulties still attended the permanent settlement of
the Society, though friends of the highest rank and influence were numerous.
At last, on the 2nd of June, 1823, the promoters were repaid for three years of
struggle and doubt by the royal sign-manual being affixed to the constitution
and regulations. Subsequently a royal charter was granted, Avhich stated so
clearly and simply (most unusual charter-characteristics) the views of the Society
that we cannot do better than transcribe the passage. Its object, it appears, is
the advancement of literature " by the publication of inedited remains of
ancient literature, and of such works as may be of great intrinsic value, but not
of that popular character which usually claims the attention of publishers ; by
the promotion of discoveries in literature ; by endeavouring to fix the standard
as far as practicable, and to preserve the purity of the English language, by the
critical improvement of English lexicography; by the reading at public meetings
of interesting papers on history, philosophy, poetry, philology, and the arts, and
the publication of such of those papers as shall be approved of; by the assigning
of honorary rewards to works of great literary merit, and to important disco-
veries in literature ; and by establishing a correspondence with learned men in
foreign countries, for the purposes of literary inquiry and information." This
was indeed a goodly programme to put forth to the world, and George IV.
showed that he was in earnest when he stamped it with his approval. He
placed at the disposal of the Society a sum of 1100 guineas yearly, to be
bestowed on ten Associates of the Society for life, each receiving a hundred
guineas per annum, and the remaining hundred to be expended in the pur-
chase of two gold medals to be bestowed yearly on persons whose literary merits
the Society might consider the most deserving of honour. The choice of persons
both for the pension and the medal was a task of serious and delicate respon-
sibility ; but it appears to have been performed with justice and discrimination.
Among the recipients of the medals have been Mitford, the historian of Greece,
Dugald Stewart, Southey, Scott, Crabbe, Archdeacon Coxe, Roscoe, Hallam, and
Washington Irving. The ten Associates selected to enjoy the premium of one
hundred guineas a-year for life were Coleridge, the Eev. J. Davies, author of
Celtic Antiquities;' Dr. Jameson, the Scottish lexicographer; T. J. Mathias,
author of * The Pursuits of Literature ;' the Rev. J. H. Malthus, the well-known
founder of the population theory ; Mr. Millengen, of classic flime; Sir William
Ouseley, the Persian traveller; Roscoe; the Rev. H. J. Todd, the editor of
2b2
372 LONDON.
the well-known ' Todd's Johnson's Dictionary ;' and Sharon Turner. And now
comes the painful part of the story. There was certainly no obligation on
the future royalty of England to continue the munificent support volunr
tarily tendered by George IV., but, under all the circumstances, most persons
must have considered such support would be continued ; and certainly no one
could suppose that it would be stopped in the life-times of any of the Associates.
But so it was. On the death of George IV. the whole of the pensions ceased.
*' King William, on his accession, had too many and urgent claims upon his privy
purse to continue the grant; and during the present reign, so friendly to lite-
rature and the arts, it has not been recommended, nor has it occurred to Queen
Victoria and Prince Albert to follow, in this wa}^, the illustrious example of the
founder, whose ' earnest ' endeavour to patronise the literature of England, and
conciliate foreign sympathy for pursuits confined to no country, thus, as far as
the throne was concerned, concluded with him."* It is to Lord Melbourne's
honour that, some years later, he caused the pensions to be indirectly resumed,
in connection with the ordinary state pension-list : but, of course, only so far as
concerned the existing, not future Associates. In other respects the society enjoys
a steadily increasing prosperity. George IV. made them a present of a piece of
land opposite St. Martin's Church, and the members voluntarily subscribed 4300/.
to build a house on it. The ordinary funds have been increased by a legacy of
5000Z. bequeathed by Dr. Richards. A valuable library has been formed ; three
quarto volumes of papers read at the meetings have been published ; and at the
present moment the society has in progress a work of great magnitude, ' The
Biography of the Literary Characters of Great Britain/ arranged in chrono-
logical order.
It is curious that at the present moment the most important of the works
published by the other great and still more useful literary society, that for the
Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, should also be a work of general biography, but
not confined to our own country, nor arranged in the same manner. In this,
which is intended to rival, if not to surpass, the great Biographical Dictionaries
of the Continent, all the important lives are of course on a large scale ; but the
very universality of the work must still render it unable to discuss at such length
as Englishmen must occasionally require the memoirs of Englishmen, consequently
the two works may with propriety range side by side on the same shelves. Of
the other important and admirable works of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge, its Almanacks, its Maps, its Libraries of Useful and Entertaining
Knowledge, its Penny Magazines, and Penny Cyclopsedias, all are too well known
to require any lengthened comment upon them here. The success of these pub-
lications forms an epoch in the history of literature. The society has proved that
high excellence and great expenditure in production may proceed simultaneously
with an exceedingly lovv^ charge on distribution ; and the effects of its success
on the trade of bookselling generally, and consequently on the state of English
literature, have been of the most important character. The founder of the
society was Mr., now Lord, Brougham, who called the first meeting in 1826.
The charter was not obtained till 1832. At first the society was supported by
the subscriptions of its members; but these were gradually discontinued^ as some
* Edinburgh Review; Royal Sjclety of Literature, Oct. 1843.
LEARNED SOCIETIES. 373
of the publications became profitable, and afforded means for the preparation of
others which were not.
Let us now without ceremony pay an Asmodeus-like visit to two or three of
the other societies we have named, stopping with each just so long as we see fit, or
think their doings of any interest to us. Here is the Linucean in Soho Square,
held in the house bequeathed to it by Sir Joseph Banks, and in which Sir Joseph
himself resided. The society was formed in 1788 by Sir J. E. Smith, and incor-
porated in 1802, with the object of studying natural history, and more particularly
that branch of it for which the great Swede from whom it derives its name
was so celebrated. But the society does not possess the name only of Lin-
nseus, but his library and herbarium also, purchased by Sir James Smith, for
1000/. The herbarium occupies three small cases, and is as valuable for the
determination by its means of the synonyms of the writings of the philosopher,
as it is interesting from being the personal relic that was of all other relics of him
the most desirable to be preserved. But what are the members doing? Ad-
mitting new members, or Fellows, as they are called. This over, the essential
business of the evening commences. A flying fish is presented by one member.
Another reads a letter giving an account of a flight of locusts recently witnessed
in India, that literally darkened the air, and which, though moving at the rate of
four miles an hour, took a party travelling in an opposite direction two or three
hours to pass through. A paper follows on the echinidse (sea-eggs, or sea-urchins,
as our unphilosophical fishermen call them) of the ^gean Sea, one of which, we
learn, delights in waters of some 70 fathoms deep, and climbs up the corals
by means of its spines alone. But enough of the Linnsean; let us see what they
are doing at the Royal Astronomical Society. Nothing, apparently, of great
interest this evening, so let us mention a noticeable anecdote connected with it,
and pass on to the Eoyal Geographical. To ensure accuracy in the calculation
of some important astronomical tables, separate computers were employed ; and
when they had performed their task, two members were chosen to compare the
results, when so many errors were detected, that one of the examiners expressed
his regret that the labour could not be executed by a machine. The other replied
that it was possible. The speaker was Mr. Babbage, who, setting to work to de-
velope the idea thus suggested, at last produced one of the most remarkable of
scientific wonders, the Calculating Machine.
The evening's business of the Royal Geographical Society is of considerable
interest, relating chiefly to that land of romance and terror to all travellers, Africa.
During some recent explorations on the north-east coast of Africa, a new and
important river has been discovered, rising near the foot of the southern slope of
the great Abyssinian plateau, and winding through a country of the richest soil,
well cultivated by a hapjJT/ and hospitable race," where grain ripens all the
)'ear, and yields from 80 to 150 fold. Well done, gentlemen travellers ! go on,
you will no doubt be able to find us the veritable Happy Valley of Rasselas
tself, before long ! A portion of a letter is also read, to which recent circumstances
^ive still higher value ; it comes from Macao, and gives an account of Hong
Kong, that new lodgment of the British, from whence our merchants begin to
.ook upon the vast Chinese empire before them, newly opening to their industry
374 LONDON.
and enterprise, with something like the feeling of the followers of Cortez as ex-
pressed in Keats' sonnet, when they —
" Look'd at each other with a wild surmise,
Silent, upon a peak in Darien."
The history of the Royal Geographical Society is of a noticeable character, as may
be readily su})posed when we state that such expeditions as Captain Alexander's
to the Cape of Good Hope, M. Schomburgk's to British Guiana, and Captain
Back's to the Arctic Regions, were all sent out by the Society. Then, again, the
facilities which our naval officers have of procuring information in all parts of the
world, and who are of course happy to communicate it to such a Society, and the
number of enterprising and intelligent travellers, who also make it the recipient
of their experience by sea and land, combine to render its publications of the
highest character for originality and value. The annual contribution of members
is but trifling, considering the amount of good effected ; each pays two pounds.
Leaving the investigations of the Geographers, with the entire surface of the world
before them, for examination and discovery, suppose we now step into the Royal
Institution in Albemarle Street, and hear one of the greatest chemists of the present
dajT^, concentrate genius and the learning of a life-time, upon no larger a portion of
that world than he can hold in his own hands. That^is all he wants to explain and
illustrate the new views he is promulgating, ^' touching electric conduction and
the nature of matter," and which lead him to the conclusion that matter consists
of centres of fires, around which the forces are grouped ; that particles do touch,
and that the forces round those centres are melted ; that wherever this power
extends, there matter is ; that wherever the atmospheres of force coalesce, there
the matter becomes continuous ; lastly, that particles can penetrate each other.
Not only in this discourse by Mr. ^arada3^ but in others announced after its
conclusion, by such men as Professors Brande, Owen, and others, we perceive that
the Royal Institution desires to keep up the chemical reputation which was raised
to so high a pitch by Sir Plumphry Davy's exertions in its laboratory. A large
portion of that philosopher's history may be called also the history of the Institu-
tion, so intimately have they been connected. In 1799 Southey, in a letter to
William Taylor of Norwich, thus vvrites of Davy, whom he had previously praised
for his poetry : — •*' Davy is a surprising young man, and one who, by his unas-
sumingncss, his open warmth of character, and his all-promising talents, soon
conciliates our affections. He writes me that two paralytic patients have been
cured by the gaseous oxyd of azote — the beatific gas, for discovering which, if he
had lived in the time of the old Persian kings, he would have received the reward
proposed for the inventing a new pleasure." It was in 1801 that Davy came to
London at the request of Count Rumford, who had just founded the Institution,
and who offered him the appointment of assistant lecturer on chemistry, which was
ultimately to be exchanged for that of the sole professorship of chemistry, " with
an income," says Davy in one of his letters, *' of at least 500Z. a-year." His prin-
cipal motive in coming to London was, it is stated, the ampler scope that would
be afforded to him in the laboratory of the New Institution, where all the appa-
ratus was to be at his sole and uncontrolled use for private experiments. And
seldom has apparatus been kept in more active operation than Davy kept it from
LEARNED SOCIETIES. 375
the time of his arrival in London, seldom has laboratory been made memorable
by more truly valuable discoveries, than that of the Royal Institution by him. He
might well love that laboratory as he did : he might well make it his real home.
His brother and biographer has given us a view of the place and of the master
spirit's movements in it, which we are tempted to extract :— " The room was
spacious, well ventilated, well lighted from above, and well supplied with water.
It was divided into two compartments, nearly of equal dimensions ; one the labo-
ratory proper, the other provided with rows of seats to be used as a theatre for
the accommodation of the students of practical chemistry. The apparatus most
conspicuous, and most in use, were a sand-bath for chemical purposes, and for
heating the room ; a powerful blast-furnace; a moveable iron forge, with a double
bellows ; a blow-pipe apparatus, attached to a table, with double bellows under-
neath; a large mercurial trough, and two or three water pneumatic troughs, and
various galvanic troughs ; not to mention gasometers, filtering stands, and the
common necessaries of a laboratory of glass or earthenware, &c. ; and not to
mention the delicate instruments liable to be injured by acid fumes which were
commonly kept in another room, as air-pumps, balances, &c. In brief, in regard
to its equipment and appearance, it was altogether a working laboratory, de-
signed for research; there was no finery in it, or fitting up for display; nothin^r
to attract vulgar admiration^ no arrangement of apparatus in orderly disposition
for lectures, and scarcely any apparatus solely intended for this purpose. It was,
indeed, an almost constant scene of laborious research ; and the preparation for
the weekly lecture, or lectures, was considered not the most important matter,
but rather as an interruption to the ordinary course of experimental investio*a-
tion. In the laboratory, where my brother spent a great portion of every clay
that he was in town, and at leisure, he was unremittingly engaged in original ex-
periments; and even in his absence the operations were not suspended; they
were continued by his assistants, according to the directions which he had given ;
and, when he returned, he finished the experiments, and examined the results.
Nothing was left to memory ; an entry was made in a large book, kept for the
purpose, of all that had occurred, written either by himself or by an assistant
from his dictation ; not, indeed, in minute detail, for that would have occupied
too much time, but briefly, for aiding the memory, and minutely only in regard
to weight and measure, and what was most important and characteristic. In his
inquiries there never was any mystery or concealment, but the most perfect open-
ness. The register of experiments was left open ; he received his friends in the
laborator}^ and conversed with them on the objects of inquiry in progress ; and
however intensely engaged he was always accessible. I can never forget his
manner when occupied in his favourite pursuit; his zeal mounted to enthusiasm,
which he more or less imparted to those around him. With cheerful voice and
countenance, and a hand as ready to manipulate as his mind was quick to con-
trive, he was indefatigable in his exertions. He was delighted icith success, hut not
discouraged hy failure ; and he bore failures and accidents in experiments with a
patience and forbearance, even when owing to the awkwardness of assistants,
which could hardly have been expected from a person of his ardent tempera-
ment. And his boldness in experimenting was very remarkable : in the opera-
tions of the laboratory danger was very much forgotten, and exposure to danger
376 LONDON.
was an every-day occurrence. Considering the risks run, and the few, if any,
precautions taken against accidents, it is surprising how small a number of in-
juries were received. The only two serious wounds I recollect he sustained, were
in the hand and eye ; the one from receiving on his hand a quantity of melted
potash; the other from the explosion of a detonating compound. Had his con-
stitution been bad, the use of both hand and eye would probably have been im-
paired ; indeed, the eye ever after retained the mark of the wound inflicted on
the transparent cornea, and never perfectly recovered its strength."*
Davy gave his first lecture in the Institution in the year 1801, the subject being
that which from a very early period had most deeply interested him — galvanism ;
and in connection with which some of his greatest future triumphs were to be
achieved. Sir Joseph Banks, Count Rumford, and other distinguished men were
present, and highly pleased with the new lecturer. Dr. Paris speaks of his un-
couth appearance ; whilst, on the other hand, the ladies, it appears, remarked that
his '^ eyes were made for something besides poring over crucibles." In 1807 he
announced that discovery in the Institution of which Dr. Paris says, '' Since the
account given by Newton of his first discoveries in optics, it may be questioned
Avhether so happy and successful an instance of philosophical induction has ever
been afforded as that by which Davy discovered the composition of the fixed
alkalis,'' through the power of decomposing them by galvanism.
7/7' i
[Sir Ilumpliry Davy.]
But to some the history of the Royal Institution presents a feature of greater
attraction even than Davy's connection with it. It was within its walls that Cole-
ridge delivered his famous lectures on poetry, and among many other important
services rendered to the art and faculty divine, through their medium promulgated
those views on Shakspere which have since spread far and wide, and entitle one
to hope the great bard will be at last esteemed &sjustl]/ in his own as in foreign
countries. From what we have Avritten, the objects of the Royal Institution will
be tolerably apparent; in official language, they are ''to diffuse the knowledge
and facilitate the introduction of useful inventions and improvements ; and to
* Memoirs, vol. i. p. 256.
LEARNED SOCIETIES. 377
teach, by courses of lectures and experiments, the application of science to the
common purposes of life." The Institution possesses quite a staff of professors ;
two of the professorships have been endowed by the munificence of a sin Me indi-
vidual, and are called by his name, FuUerian. Besides the laboratory, there is
a museum and a noble library. Members are admitted by ballot and on pay-
ment of an entrance-fee of six guineas, and five guineas yearly.
From the Royal Institution, where Davy fulfilled so long and so honourably
the post of Chemical Professor, to the Royal Society, of which he became the
President, the thoughts pass by a natural transition. And now, like the traveller
who has ascended to the source of some magnificent river, along the banks of
which, far away on either side, he has seen the evidences of the fertility that those
waters have done so much to create, we rest content, and look upon our literary,
as he upon his actual, journey as essentially finished, and resign ourselves to the
reflections naturally suggested by such a position. In glancing over the history
of the Royal Society, it is this consideration of its relative situation as regards all
the other learned bodies of the Metropolis that even more than the intrinsic
value of that history, great as it is, makes, and must ever make it most deeply
interesting. Boyle, in a letter of the date of 1646, speaks of the Invisible or
Philosophical Society, and there can be little doubt but he refers to the meetings
from which the Royal Society sprang, and which, being held in all sorts of places,
now at the lodgings of one of the members, now at the Gresham College, and
now somewhere in the neighbourhood of the latter, were practically invisible
enough to all but the initiated. Among these members were Dr. Wilkins, after-
wards Bishop of Chester, the author of a 'Discovery of a New World' in the
Moon, and of suggestions as to the best way of getting to it ; Dr. Wallis, the
eminent mathematician ; and Dr. Goddard, a physician in Wood Street ; all of
whom during the Commonwealth obtained appointments at Oxford, and there
formed a similar society. In 1659 most of the members of the two societies found
themselves met together once more in London, and then, joining with the two
Gresham professors of astronomy and geometry, Christopher Wren and Rooke,
Avho were at that time delivering lectures in the college, and with several
persons of distinction, the whole met after the lectures in an adjoining room for
philosophical conversation. And so matters went on very pleasantly till the
resignation of the Protectorship by Richard Cromwell, when the apartments
occupied for scientific purposes were converted into quarters for soldiers, and the
members of the society for a time dispersed. On the Restoration, however, they
met again, and began to form themselves into a regular society. An address
was presented to the king, who gave it a very flattering and promising reception ;
and, two years later, something better still, namely, a charter of incorporation
under the name of the Royal Society, also granting the usual privileges of
holding lands and tenements, suing and defending in courts of law, having a coat
of arms and a common seal. The noble spirit in which the Society commenced
operations is attested by the resolutions drawn up at the time, in which it was
"agreed that records should be made of all the works of nature and art of which
any account could be obtained ; so that the present age a'ld posterity misrht be
able to mark the errors which have been strengthened by long prescription, to
378
LONDON.
[Seal of tlie.Koyal Society.]
restore truths which have been long neglected^ and to extend the uses of those
already known ; thus making the way easier to those which were yet unknown.
It was also resolved to admit men of different religions, professions, and nations,
in order that the knowledge of nature might be freed from the prejudices of sects,
and from a bias in favour of any particular branch of learning, and that all man-
kind might as much as possible be engaged in the pursuit of philosophy, which
it was proposed to reform not by laws and ceremonies, but by practice and
example. It was further resolved that the Society should not be a school where
some might teach and others be taught, but rather a sort of laboratory where all
persons might operate independently of one another."* We have already seen
what an immense amount of good, direct and indirect, has flowed from the Royal
Society ; we may now see in this brief outline of its original views that such
admirable results have been but the natural consequences of admirable prin-
ciples. The combined objects and effects of all the learned societies of the
present day could hardly be more accurately described than they are in this im-
portant document dated nearly two centuries back. And it was no mere flourish
of the pen, but a genuine preparation for downright hard labour. The world of
knowledge was before the members to choose what paths they would, and with
characteristic ardour they chose all, or something very like all ; but that was in
consequence of the universality of their minds, not through conceit, or presump-
tion ; and they went to work with a full consciousness of what would be demanded
from them. They divided themselves into committees. In March, 1644, we
find no less than eight of these in operation ; one to consider and improve all
mechanical inventions, a second to study astronomy and optics, a third to study
anatomy, a fourth chemistry, a fifth geology, a sixth the histories of trade, a
seventh, to collect all the phenomena of nature hitherto observed, and all expe-
riments made and recorded; an eighth, to manage the correspondence; whilst
* ' Penny Cyclopaedia,' article Royal Society.
LEARNED SOCIETIES. 379
later in the year we find a ninth constituted, it having Lecn " subo-cstcd that
there were several persons of the society whose genius was very propter and in-
clined to improve the English tongue, and particularly for philosophical pur-
poses;" which can hardly be questioned when we know that among the members
of the society were such men as John Dryden and Edmund Waller, both of whom,
with Evelyn and Sprat, were included in the committee then voted. Amon^r the
other members of the society at the same time were Dr. Ent, the friend and de-
fender of Harvey ; Boyle, the great cultivator of experimental science ; Sir Kenelni
Digby; the poets Denham and Cowley; Ashmolc, Aubrey, Isaac Barrow, Hooke,
the distinguished chemist and mechanician, who professed to have anticipated
Newton, a somewhat later member of the society, in his grandest discoveries •
Spratt, another poet in his way, afterwards Bishop of llochester ; and many others
of scarcely less distinction. It is pleasant to have even the driest description of
the meetings of such men ; and such is afforded to us by an eye-witness, Sorbiore,
historiographer to Louis XIII., who came to England in 1633, was elected a
member of the society, and published a narrative of his adventures, includin-'-
a tolerably full account of the body he had joined. He notices first the
beadle, " who goes before the president with a mace, which he lays down on
the table when the society have taken their places." This mace, still in the
society's possession, was the gift of Charles II. ; it was the mace referred to
by Cromwell, when he turned the Commons out of the house of Parliament,
and bade his soldiers " Take away that bauble." '' The room," continues Sor-
biere, " where the society meets is large and wainscotted ; there is a large table
before the chimney, with seven or eight chairs covered with green cloth about it,
and two rows of wooden and matted benches to lean on, the first being higher
than the others, in form like an amphitheatre. The president and council are
elective ; they mind no precedency in the society, but the president sits at the
middle of the table in an elbow-chair, with his back to the chimney. The secre-
tary sits at the end of the table on his left hand ; and they have each of them pen,
ink, and paper before them. I saw nobody sit in the chairs ; I think they are
reserved for j^ersons of great quality, or those who have occasion to draw near
the president. All the other members take their places as they think fit, and
without ceremony; and if any one comes in after the society is fixed, nobody stirs,
but he takes a place presently where he can find it, so that no interruption may
be given to him that speaks. The president has a little wooden mace in his hand,
with which he strikes the table when he would command silence; they address
their discourse to him bare-headed till he makes a sign for them to put on their
hats ; and there is a relation given in a few words of what is thought proper to
be said concerning the experiments proposed by the secretary. There is nobody
here eager to speak, that makes a long harangue, or intent upon saying all he
knows ; he is never interrupted that speaks, and differences of opinion cause no
manner of resentment, nor as much as a disobliging way of speech; there is
nothing seemed to me to be more civil, respectful, and better managed than
this meeting; and if there are any private discourses held between any while
a member is speaking, they only whisper, and the least sign from the president
causes a sudden stop, though t'-ey have not told their mind out. I took
380
LONDON.
special notice of this conduct in a body consisting of so many persons, and of
such different nations." And it was worthy of notice, as showing how truly
the many remarkable men congregated upon those " wooden and matted
benches " had imbibed the calm philosophical spirit in which alone truth
can be successfully sought. At the same time one must acknowledge that
some of the occupations of this august assembly must excite a smile. Boyle
was at one time requested to examine the truth of the notion, that a fish sus-
pended by a thread would turn towards the wind. At another the members of
the Society tested by direct experiment the truth of the opinion that a spider
could not get out of a sphere enclosed within a circle formed of a powdered
unicorn's horn ! We should like to have marked the progress of that experi-
ment, carried on, as we may be sure it was, with all the usual formalities and
decorum so circumstantially described by Sorbiere. As a contrast to this picture
suppose we look in upon the Society now. Let us step in here beneath Sir
William Chambers's sumptuous archway at Somerset House, and passing through
a door on the left, ascend the circular staircase to the apartments of which it
enjoys the use through the liberality of the crown. We must not expect to
find the vigour that characterised its youth. It was no doubt a consciousness
lloyal Society's Apartments, Somerset House.
LEARNED SOCIETIES. 381
of some little fallings-ofF that first prompted Davy, when he became its president,
to propose his magnificent scheme of making the Eoyal Society '' an efficient
establishment for all the great purposes of science, similar to the college con-
templated by Lord Bacon, and sketched in his ' New Atlantis ;' havino- subor-
dinate to it the Koyal Observatory at Greenwich for astronomy, the British
Museum for natural history in its most extensive acceptation, and a laboratory
founded for chemical investigation, amply provided with all the means requisite
for original inquiry, and extending the boundaries and the resources of this most
important national science." But government was lukewarm, and before Davy
could collect funds from the fellows to carry out the scheme in part at least
among themselves, he died. Well, if there be, as we have observed, less of the
original activity of the Society exhibited now than of yore, we have at all events
got rid of the fish-weathercocks and the circle-charmed spiders : but stay ; the
business of the evening commences, and we shall hear what subjects do now
engage attention. A most interesting paper in the form of a letter is read, on
that matter which has so often, and hitherto so fruitlessly, engaged attention —
the luminous spots occasionally visible on the sea. Captain F. E. Wilmot, it
seems, on a recent voyage home from the Cape, observed one of them during
a night in spring, when the sea was covered with so brilliant a surface of
silver light, that the persons in the ship could see to read, and the shadows
.of ropes were clearly marked. The ship sailed through it for four hours.
Determined to find out at last what these oceanic illuminations meant, whether
they belonged to philosophy as but so many animalcula, or to romance as some
gala exhibition of the mermaids and mermen of the depths below, they secured
a bottle full of the water, which was carefully corked, and brought to Enghind.
On examining the water, Mr. Faraday found that though considerable change
had taken place in it, so that organic forms could no longer be recognised, there
was no doubt that it had been rich in animals or animalcula. But we need not
follow farther the proceedings of the evening, which of course depend much upon
accident for their value; and will, therefore, instead, notice one of the more im-
portant of the matters in which the Society has of late been actively engaged.
The recent antarctic expedition under Captain James Ross was undertaken by the
Government in consequence, chiefly, of its recommendation. Before the departure
of the vessels the Council of the Society formed itself into five distinct committees,
consisting of members practically conversant with the sciences in question, in
order to draw up an elaborately detailed statement of the inquiries which it was
most desirable that the expedition should undertake, so far at least as circum-
stances permitted; and which embraced the determinations of points of the
highest importance in physics, meteorology, mineralogy, geology, botany, and
zoology. The results of that expedition formed one of the most gratifying topics
of the President's address at the anniversary meeting in November last, when it
was stated to have achieved '' almost entire success ;" and that the " magnetic
observations made by Captain Ross and his officers, with so much assiduity and
ability, will be the enduring monument of their fame as long as industry and
science are held in honour by mankind. The magnetic maps of the South polar
regions will be a result which all philosophers must hail with delight, while the
il
382 LONDON.
geographer will rejoice in the advancement of our knowledge so far to the south-
ward of all former navigation, and in our acquaintance with a new polar volcano,
compared to which Hecla sinks into insignificance." It is at once pleasant and
pertinent to be able to add that science on this occasion, whilst requiring so much
from the discoverers, did almost everything that was most important for them
during their labours, as regards health, comfort, and safety. So admirable were
the preparations for the voyage that, during the three years of its duration, but
one man of the crews of both ships suffered from disease and died.
At the yearly anniversary to which we have referred, gold medals are conferred
upon the authors of the best papers on experimental philosophy, written in the
preceding twelve months, and who are often pjersonally present to receive them from
the hands of the President, with some suitable remarks on the occasion made in the
course of his general address. One honourable feature characterises the grant of
these medals — they are conferred indifferently on foreigners and Englishmen. At
the last anniversary, for instance, M. Jean B. Dumas received one for his Researches
in Organic Chemistry. In former years we find still more distinguished foreign
names, such as MM. Biot and Arago. Among the Englishmen who have received
this honour at the hands of the Society may be mentioned Dr. Priestley, Mr.
Dalton, Mr. Ivory, and Sir John ITerschel. But of all the meetings connected
■with the Boyal Society, those of which the public hear the least are by far the
most attractive ; we allude to those private re-unions of the members for social enjoy-
ment and conversation. During the presidency of Sir Joseph Banks these were
of a very brilliant description ; and while Sir Humphry Dav}^ resided in Lower
Grosvenor Street they were continued with no less spirit under his. His brother
gives a graphic account of them. Here were '' brought together," he says,
" not merely men of science, but also literary men, poets, artists, country gen-
tlemen ; and they were very attractive to foreigners. The subjects of interest of
the day were there discussed, and curious information obtained from the best
source, and knowledge exchanged between individuals, as in a great mart of
traffic, each giving and receiving according to his acquirements and wants. There
the physiologist and naturalist might collect curious particulars from an African
traveller, or Arctic navigator, respecting many objects of his particular in-
quiries, and give hints for further investigation, or solve questions which might
have perplexed the original observer. An evening seldom occurred without
some novelty in art, science, or nature being brought forward — as the bones from
the Kirkdale cave, or a new chemical compound, or a magnetical experiment, or
a recently discovered mineral or some new instrument or apparatus ; and a great
zest was given by the presence, as was generally the case, of the inventor or dis-
coverer, who was always willing to offer explanation, and to give detailed in-
formation to those who were desirous of receiving it. And, moreover, a stimulus
was thus imparted — a fresh excitement to the mind to continue and perfect useful
investigations ; and aids were often given which greatly contributed to the suc-
cessful termination of scientific labours. In these parties the distinctions of society
seemed very much to be lost in the distinctions which science and merit confer.
Men of the highest rank in the country mingled with men without any claim io
notice^ excepting that high one of superior knowledge -, and it was a noble thing
LEARNED SOCIETIES. 3S3
to see how much more attractive it was, and more honoured than the hi<»hest
nobilit}^ destitute of this qualification. I remember one eveninfr, when the com-
pany was reduced to a small number by the lateness of the hour, and those who
remained had collected round the fire, one of the party, I believe it was Dr.
Young', observed in playful remark, ' All I perceive here are doctors ;' and so it
proved ; there being two or three doctors of physic— one, I believe, of divinity,
and three of civil laws : and of these last, two were baronets, and one was an
earl, who, though distinguished for his high bearing on ordinary occasions, on
this 'occasion; seemed ^pleased to be considered of the same grade as the rest.''*
The number of members or Fellows of the Royal Society is now about SOO;
these are only admitted by ballot, and after the preliminary recommendations of
at least six Fellows, and on their admission ten pounds as entrance-money and
four pounds for the first year's subscription are paid. The original regular pay-
ment was one shilling weekl}^ and some very curious matter is recorded in the
books of the Society in connection with this point. In 1681-2 we find the advice
of counsel taken as to whether an action might not be brought for arrears, who
decided in the affirmative. The Society, however, does not appear to have
resorted to that expedient, but kept up, instead, a close system of dunning. 1'he
poet Waller was among the defaulters, who sent to say that the plague hap-
pening some time after the Society was established, and he being perpetually in
parliament, had never been able to attend the Society, either to serve them or to
receive any advantage thereby ; that he was then of a great age, had lost half
his fortune for the king, and having a great charge of children, hoped that he
should be considered as well as others who had not been able to wait on them any
more than himself, and he humbly took leave to consider how he might be able
to serve them. Another striking case is that of Newton, afterwards President of
the Society; on the 28th of January, 1674-5, he was excused from making tlie
customary payment "on account of his low circumstances, as he alleged." Besides
the general advantages attending the right of witnessing and sharing in all the
proceedings of the body, Fellow^s receive a direct return for some portion of their
subscription in the current yearly volume of the great publication of the Societ}^
the Philosophical Transactions, of which above 130 volumes have now been
issued, and which, in Sir Humphry Davy's Avords, " remain monuments of all the
country has possessed of profound in experimental research, or ingenious in
discovery, or sublime in speculative science, from the time of Hooke and Newton
to that of ISIaskelyne and Cavendish."
Of the Society of Antiquaries, which holds its meetings in apartments adjoin-
ing those of the Royal Society, and on the same evenings, but at an earlier hour,
we need say very little. It was in existence as early as the reign of Elizabeth,
when a few distinguished scholars, headed by A^rchbishop Parker and Sir Robert
Cotton, formed themselves into a body for the preservation of our national anti-
quities. From thence to 1617 various attempts were made to obtain a charter of
incorporation, but ineffectually, and the society then died away. In 1707 a new
body was constituted, comprising Peter le Neve, Madox the Exchequer anti-
* Memoirs, vol. il. p. 133.
384 LONDON.
quary, and others, who met first at the Bear in the Strand, then at the Young
Devil in Fleet Street (a rival, we presume, of the famous Old Devil of poetical
memory), and then at the Fountain over against Chancery Lane. Here Stukeley,
Samuel and Roger Gale, and Browne Willis joined them, and a little later
George Vertue, the illustrious engraver, became a zealous member. Many other
removals took place ; but at last, in 1750, a charter was obtained, and since then
of course all has gone on very smoothly. Numerous publications have ap-
peared, some of great value, more particularly the ' Archseologia,' which is
to the Antiquarian Society what the ' Philosophical Transactions' are to the
Royal, a place of deposit for all the more important communications submitted
to its notice. Its members are nearly as numerous as those of the Royal
Society, which in all its arrangements for admission, government^ &c., it closely
resembles.
[Lord Chancellor's Court, Westminster Hall ]
CL.— C OURTS OF LAW.
The ancient practice of particular trades confining themselves for the most part
to one spot, as in old London, would, in many instances, be about as convenient
in London of the present day as a whole street of post-office receiving-houses,
or the crowding together of all the members of the medical profession in one
neighbourhood. The old custom may, however, still be traced faintly in somo
cases, and stronger in others ; and in a great capital this will always be the case.
|So long, for instance^ as the Bank of England, the Stock Exchange and the
Royal Exchange shall exist, their vicinity will necessarily be the centre of the
i^reat monetary and commercial interests. Not less distinct and well defined,
'perhaps even more so, is the law quarter of London. Of the nine thousand
ittorneys in England who practise in the superior Courts of Law and Equity at
Westminster, above two thousand seven hundred reside in London, and one
;housand three hundred of them have their offices within half a mile of Lincoln's
linn. Five thousand four hundred and fifty-five country attorneys employ four
mndred and eighty out of the above-mentioned one thousand three hundred
London attorneys, to transact their court business ; and two-thirds of the four
jmndred and eighty practise within a quarter of a mile of Lincoln's Inn. Again,
ifty-one legal firms act as agents for above three thousand country attorneys,
VOL. VI. 2 c
386 LONDON.
which is not very far from one-half of the whole business of the country attorneys
in the kingdom ; and these fifty-one firms are all within about four hundred yards
of Lincoln's Inn. Or^ taking the London attorneys and those of the country for
whom they act in the superior courts, their geographical distribution is as fol-
lows : — In the district of the Inns of Court, London attorneys, one thousand three
hundred and sixty-five; country, five thousand two hundred and thirty-one;
making together six thousand five-hundred and ninety-six. Within the boundary
of the City, east of the law district, London attorneys, eight hundred and three ;
country attorneys, one thousand three hundred and twenty-one ; together, two
thousand one hundred and twenty-four. Allotting to Westminster a district
larger in extent than either of the above, there are one hundred and twenty-four
attorneys ; London^ ninety ; country, thirty-four. There are less than six hundred
London attorneys and their legal country clients to be accounted for out of the
total number in England, and these are to be found scattered in the north-east
and north-west of London, and on the Surrey side of the river. In whatever
part of London an attorney may reside, the law- offices draw him almost daily to
the law quarter of the metropolis; and hence, both for convenience and dispatch,
it is an important object with him to have his chambers in their vicinity. The
offices attached to the Courts of Law are principally in the Temple and Lincoln's
Inn ; and those of the Courts of Chancery and Exchequer chiefly in Chancery-
Lane. Not a step can be taken in suits of law without resorting to one or other
of these offices. The Judges' chambers, where very important business is trans-
acted before the Judges of each of the superior Common Law Courts, are in
Rolls' Gardens, Chancery Lane.
The Courts of Law, though for ages they have sat at Westminster, have not
had the effect of drawing the law-offices after them, because it was absolutely
necessary that these offices should be situated in the midst of the law district, that
is, in or about the Inns of Court. Still, the fact that nine- tenths of the whole
court business of the country is conducted in offices a mile and a mile and a half
from the Courts at Westminster Hall is a remarkable one. In one respect
nothing can be more appropriate than the situation of the Courts of Law at
Westminster, the ancient seat of the Kings of England. The origin of these
Courts may be traced to a period when the elements of the constitution were
in their simplest state, and when legislative, administrative, and judicial func-
tions were discharged more immediately by the Sovereign, assisted by the
*' wittena-gemote," or assembly of the wise, whom he consulted in each of these
departments indiscriminatel}^ After the conquest the King was assisted in a
similar way by the Great Council. The Aula Kegis, so called from being held in
the Hall of the King's Palace, was the great court for dispensing justice and punish-
ing crimes committed against his power. When the Great Council sat in their
judicial capacity, they were assisted by the great officers of state, who held situa-
tions in the King's household, and the one who, in modern phraseology, is called
the Lord High Steward, was not only at the head of the King's Palace, but of
all the departments of the state, civil and military, chief administrator of justice^
and leader of the armies in war. In the course of time the judicial functions
were committed to an officer styled the Chief Justiciary ; but to the office of
Lord High Steward there still pertain remnants of his ancient authority, and it
COURTS OF LAW. SH7
is his duty to preside at state-trials in the House of Lords. The Chief Justiciary
presided in the Aula Regis, which was the only superior Court of Law. The
functions of this tribunal had become gradually separated from the general busi-
ness of the Great Council. It maintained the former power of the Great
Council in punishing offences against the public, in controlling the proceedings of
inferior Courts, and in deciding on questions relative to the revenue of the Sove-
reign, and engrossed besides a great portion of the ''common j)leas/' or causes
between party and party. The different nature of the causes of which it took
cognizance are styled by our earlier legal writers as pleas of the King, common
pleas^ and pleas of the Exchequer. The jurisdiction of the Chief Justiciar
extended over each class of causes. In the reign of Edward III. (fourteenth
century), the Great Council became essentially a legislative body, and as it now
exists it is styled the High Court of Parliament, and is the Court of ultimate
appeal. The office of Chief Justiciar was abolished in the same reign, and thus
not only the connexion of the Aula Regis with the Great Council was destroyed,
but the unity of that Court was broken in upon, and separate jurisdiction was
given to the three Courts of the King's Bench, Common Pleas, and Exchequer.
One of the articles of Magna Charta was, that common pleas should not follow
the King's Court, but be held in certain places. Previously the poorer class of
suitors in cases which concerned neither the King's revenues nor his prerogative
of prosecuting offenders on behalf of the public, were compelled, in civil actions
between man and man, to attend the frequent and distant progresses of the Court,
or to lose their remedies altogether. The Courts of King's Bench and Exche-
quer still retain their peculiar jurisdiction, the former enjoying superiority as the
remnant of the Aula Regis, and^ the latter having cognizance of all cases relat-
ing to the revenue. So recently as 1830 the appeal from the judgment of the
Court of Common Pleas was by writ of error, to the Justices of the King's Bench.
The Court of Exchequer is the lowest in rank of the superior Courts, although
formerly one of the first in importance. The Judges are the Chief Baron and
four other barons, who are so called from having been anciently chosen from such
as were barons of the kingdom or parliamentary barons. Another relic of the
original constitution of the superior Courts, before ,they were carried out of the
Aula Regis, appears in the appellation of '' My Lord," which is always given to
the Judges in their official character. In 1832 an Act was passed for assimilat-
ing the practice of the Common Law Courts. Before this time, besides the peculiar
jurisdiction exercised by the Courts of King's Bench and Exchequer, the Court
of Common Pleas had the exclusive right of trying all causes which related to
freehold or realty. The right of practising in this Court in term time was and is
confined to Serjeants-at-Law, the attempt to deprive them of this privilege
having failed. The great mass of causes may now, therefore, be tried in any of
the three courts. The Court of Exchequer consists of two divisions, one having
jurisdiction in matters relating to the revenue ; and the other is sub-divided into
a Court of Common Law, where all personal actions may be brought, and a Court
of Equity, where suits in equity may be commenced and prosecuted. In the reign
of Edward III. (in 1358) a court was erected, called the Court of Exchequer
Chamber, to determine causes upon writs of error from the Common Law side of
the Exchequer. An appeal may now be made from each of the three Courts to
iU c <^
388 LONDON.
this Chamber ; and from whichever Court it is brought, it is the Judges of the
other two Courts who decide upon it ; but an ultimate appeal may be made to
the House of Lords. The number of the Judges of England since 1830 has been
fifteen, a Chief Justice and four puisne Judges in the Courts of King's Bench
and Common Pleas, and a Chief Baron and four other barons in the Court of
Exchequer. There were previously only four Judges in each Court.
The Courts of Equity, which have jurisdiction in cases where an adequate
remedy cannot be had in the Com.mon Law Courts, are not confined to Westminster
Hall. The Lord Chancellor, the Master of the Rolls, and the Vice- Chancellor,
have their Courts there; and they sit at Westminster in term-time; but in the
intervals, the Lord Chancellor and Vice-Chancellor sit at Lincoln's Inn, and the
Master of the Rolls, the second equity judge in point of rank, at the Rolls in
Chancery Lane. In 1841 two additional vice-chancellors were appointed by Act
of Parliament ; and the first vice-chancellor is now distinguished by the title of
Vice- Chancellor of England. The Lord High Chancellor was originally a sort of
confidential chaplain, or, before the Reformation, confessor to the King, and keeper
of the King's conscience. In his capacity of chief secretary he was the adviser of
his master in various temporal matters ; he prepared and made out royal mandates,
grants, and charters, and, when seals came into use, affixed his seal. The appoint-
ment to the office takes place by the delivery of the great seal. The authority of Lord
Chancellor and Lord Keeper were made the same by an Act passed in 1563 ; and the
last Lord Keeper was Lord Henley, in 1757. From a small beginning the office of
Lord Chancellor became one of great dignity and pre-eminence, and he now takes
rank above all dukes not of the blood-royal, and next to the Archbishop of Can-
terbury. Before the Reformation the Lord Chancellor or Lord Keeper was usually
an ecclesiastic. The last churchman who filled the office was Williams, Archbishop
of York, who was Lord Keeper, from 1621 to 1625. In the same century the
Earl of Shaftesbury, who was neither an ecclesiastic nor a lawyer, was appointed
Lord Chancellor. The jurisdiction with which the Lord High Chancellor is in-
vested originated in the discretionary power of the King, whose special inter-
ference, as the fountain of justice, was frequently sought against the decisions of
the Courts of Law, and also in matters which were not cognizable by the Common
Courts. The Lord Chancellor also exercises important political functions, and
has a seat in the cabinet. He resigns office with the party to which he is
attached. The Court of Chancery is a name which properly belongs to the Lord
Chancellor's Court and the Vice-Chancellor's Court together, but it is most fre-
quently applied to all the Courts of Equity. The office of Vice-Chancellor is only
of recent origin, having been created in 1813, and in 1841, as already mentioned,
two additional vice-chancellors were appointed. The Master of the Rolls, an-
other of the Judges in Equity, who has a separate Court, is an officer of great anti-
quity. He takes precedence next to the Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench,
and before the Vice-Chancellors. The Master of the Rolls has the power of
hearing and determining originally the same matters as the Lord Chancellor,
with a few exceptions ; but his orders or decrees must be signed by the Lord
Chancellor before being enrolled. The Vice- Chancellor has nearly the same
powers. Appeals (strictly speaking re-hearings) are made both from the Rolls and
the Vice-Chancellor's Court to the Lord Chancellor, whose court of late years
COURTS OF LAW. 389
has chiefly been occupied with such appeals. The property '' locked up " in the
Court of Chancery amounts to the enormous sum of 40,000,000/.
The public entrance to the Courts at Westminster is at the northern end of
Westminster Hall. First is the Queen's Bench, next the Court of Exchequer,
the Court of Common Pleas, the Lord Chancellor's Court, and the llolls Court.
Few strangers omit paying a visit to the Courts of Law. The Courts themselves
are very far from possessing any imposing architectural character; but the in-
terest of the scene is independent of factitious circumstances. This spot has been
the seat of justice for nearly a thousand years; and the history of our judicial
tribunals, from the period when the sovereign dispensed justice in his great hall
to the present time, is full of instruction as well as of interest. But strong as
may be the religio loci which a visit to the courts may excite, the associations con-
nected with the administration of justice will command respect wherever the tri-
bunal may be fixed. The purity and dignity of our judicial procedure is no
longer sullied by the vulgar abuse and clamour of a Jeiferies to beat down the
defence of au innocent man. The time has gone by since the sovereign (Queen
Elizabeth) could say of a criminal that " she would have him racked to produce
his authority ;" for the practice then existed, even in England, of obtaining con-
fession or evidence by means of torture. In the present day a prisoner, in the lan-
guage of Erskine, ^' is covered all over with the armour of the law." Lastly, the
judges are completely independent of the sovereign or his ministers. The Courts
of Law, therefore, apart from the living realities which they present, exhibit a
systematic spirit of tenderness and humanity, united with firmness and the absence
of corrupt influence, which constitute the perfection of a judicial tribunal. The
ordinary scenes witnessed in a court of justice are so well known as scarcely to
need description. In their general appearance the Courts at Westminster do not
very much diifer from each other. The Lord Chancellor's Court is the smallest,
and the Exchequer Court the largest. The Queen s Bench is inconveniently
small. Nothing can be worse than the absence of accommodation for counsel,
attorneys, jurymen, suitors, and witnesses. A witness has to make his way into the
witness-box through the crowd, and, after he has struggled through this difficult}^
it is possible that the excitement may have given him the air of a culprit rather
than of a witness. There are no waiting-rooms for witnesses attached to any of
the Courts, and no means of obtaining refreshment, except from the hotels and
coffee-houses at the foot of Westminster Bridge. Scarcely any arrangements
exist for facilitating consultations, and they are often held in the passages and
avenues, or at one of the adjacent coffee-rooms, where five or six consultations are
possibly taking place at the same time.
The profession of the law is one by which a man may rise to the highest sta-
tions in this country; and not a few of those who have at last succeeded have
been on the point of retiring from the contest, when fortune has unexpectedly
smiled upon them. Lord Camden and the Earl of Eldon both experienced a
lucky turn in their affairs when they had almost abandoned the hopes of advance-
ment. Some, again, have enjoyed an almost uninterrupted career of success.
The sudden illness of a leader has given them an opportunity for the display of
their abilities, while but for such an occurrence they might long have remained
in obscurity.
390
LONDON.
Earl Camden, the son of Chief Justice Pratt, was called to the bar in his
twenty-fourth year ; and continued to wait in vain for clients for nine long years,
when he resolved to abandon Westminster Hall for his College Fellowship ; but
at the solicitation of his friend Henley, afterwards Lord Chancellor Northington,
he consented once more to go the Western Circuit, and through his kind offices
received a brief as his junior in an important' cause. His leader's illness threw
the management of the case into Mr. Pratt's hands, and his success was complete.
After eight years' lucrative practice he was made Attorney-General, and, three
years after, in 1762, raised to the Bench as Chief Justice of the Common Pleas.
He had entered Parliament in 1749, being then in his forty-sixth year, but did
not gain much distinction. The honours of the Senate flowed in upon him at a
later period of his life, after he was made Lord Chancellor, in 1766, and raised to
the peerage. In 1770 he voted against his colleagues, on Wilkes's case, a circum-
stance which necessarily led to his removal from the woolsack. During the re-
maining twenty-four years of his life he was entirely a political character, and
upon every occasion the right arm of Lord Chatham, after whose death, in 1778,
he rarely took any part in debate. In 1792, when above eighty, he addressed
the House in an able and energetic speech on the celebrated mea'Sure of Lord
Erskine, commonly, though erroneously, says Lord Brougham, called Mr. Fox's
Libel Act, which established the right of juries in libel cases in opposition to the
slavish doctrines of the day. '' Two years after he descended to the grave, full
of years and honours, the most precious honours which a patriot can enjoy, the
unabated gratitude of his countrymen, and the unbroken consciousness of having
through good report and evil firmly maintained his principles, and faithfully
discharged his duty." *
,,<g^sr^:
[Earl Camden. From a Pixintiug by Sir Josliua Reynolds.]
Mr. Wedderburn, afterwards Lord Loughborough, and Earl of Rosslyn, owed
much of his success to the manoeuvres of faction, though he was one of the few
lawyers who have shone at the least as much in political aifairs as in Westminster
* Lord Brougham's * Statesmen of the Reign^of George III.,' i. p. 180.
s
COURTS OF LAW.
391
[Lord Loughborough.]
Hall. He entered parliament as a fierce opponent of Lord North's adminis-
tration, and joined it when their policy, at the commencement of the war with
America, was most questionable. Lord Brougham ascribes to his influence
" the fancy respecting the coronation oath which so entirely obtained pos-
session of George III.'s mind, and actuated his conduct during the whole dis-
cussion of Irish affairs." The cabinet to which he belonged was broken up,
and he was made an earl and laid on the shelf. In the hope of regaining his
ascendancy, he took an uncomfortable villa, which had only the recommendation
of being in the vicinity of Windsor Castle, and here for three years he was to be
seen dancing attendance on royalty, unnoticed and neglected by the king, who,
when he heard of his late chancellor's death after an illness of a few hours,
having cautiously inquired of the m.essenger if he were really dead, coldly ob-
served, " Then he has not left a worse man behind him," though the phrase
which the king actually used was, says Lord Brougham, less decorous and more
unfeeling than the above.
^■^-r^f
[Lord Thurlow.]
Lord Thurlow's name is much more familiar with the greater part of the public
than Lord Loughborough's, from the anecdotes which are current of the surliness
of his character, his eccentricities, and his general disregard of judical decorum.
He was called to the bar in 1754, and, according to professional tradition, the
circumstance which brought him into notice (the arrangement of the evidence in
392
LONDON.
the great Douglas cause before the House of Lords) was the result of mere
accident. His support of the policy of the government respecting America pro-
cured for him a degree of confidence, and even of personal regard on the part of
the king which continued undiminished for above twenty years. In 1778 Thur-
low was made Lord Chancellor, and raised to the peerage. When the Rocking-
ham ministry was formed in 1782, he remained in possession of the Great Seal
at the express command of the king, who, however, in vain endeavoured to
retain him when the coalition ministry was formed between Lord North and Mr.
Fox. At the end of the year, when the coalition was dissolved, and Mr. Pitt
became prime minister, the Seal was restored to Thurlow, and he held it for nine
years afterwards. In 1788 he actively intrigued with the Whigs on the Regency
question in opposition to his colleagues ; but suddenly discovering from one of
the physicians the approaching convalescence of the royal patient, he at one
moment's notice deserted the Carlton House party, and, says Lord Brougham,
*' Came down with an assurance unknown to all besides, perhaps even to himself
not known before, and in his place undertook the defence of the king's right
against his son and his partisans ;" adding, in conclusion, " And when I forget
my sovereign may my God forget me ! " When, however, Thurlow attempted,
in 1792, the same trick with Pitt, whom he cordially hated, which he had played
off under a former administration, by voting against his colleagues, the king, on
Mr. Pitt's application, at once consented to Lord Thurlow's removal, " without,"
says Lord Brougham, " any struggle, or even apparent reluctance." As a judge
he was accustomed to give his decisions without the reasons on which they rested,
a habit much censured by succeeding chancellors. Lord Brougham says Lord
Thurlow's place among lawyers is not amongst the highest ; but his judgments
for the most part gave satisfaction to the profession. It was perilous to try ex-
periments on the limits of his patience by prolixity or endless repetition. Fox was
accustomed to say that no man could he so wise as Lord Thurlow looked. In
council he was far from being firm and vigorous, as might have been expected
from the character of the man.
[Lord Mansfield.]
Few lawyers have been more tempted than Lord Mansfield to quit their profes-
sion for politics. But, either from prudence or timidity, he avoided the dangers of
political life. Lord Brougham states that Mansfield's powers as an advocate were
great, though not first-rate. He possessed an almost surpassing sweetness of voice,
and it was said his story was worth other men's arguments, so clear and skilful
were his statements. The very defects which he had betrayed as an advocate
COURTS OF LAW. 393
were, says the same authority, admiraLly calculated for his more exalted station.
" His mind and his habits were eminently judicial; and it maybe doubted if,
taking both the externals and the more essential qualities into the account, that
go to form a great judge, any one has ever administered the laws in this country
whom we can fairly name as his equal." The regulations which he made for the
dispatch of business w^ere calculated to diminish expense and delay. '' He re*
stored to the whole bar the privilege of moving in turn, instead of confining this
to the last day of the term. He almost abolished the tedious and costly practice
of having the same case argued several times over, restricting such re-hearings
to questions of real difficulty and adequate importance The cases were so
speedily and so well dispatched, that the other Courts of Common Law were
drained of their business without the channels of the Court of King's Bench beino*
choked up or overflowing."* During the thirty-two years which he presided over
this great Court, there were not more than half-a-dozen cases in which the judges
differed, and not so many in which the judgments pronounced were reversed. He
presided regularly on the bench until his eighty-second year, and finally retired
from it in 1788, being then in his eighty-fourth year, having continued, says
Lord Brougham, to hold his high office for two or three years longer than he
ought to have done, or could discharge its duties, in the hope of prevailing with
the ministry to appoint his favourite, Judge Buller, his successor. He lived
five years after his retirement. Lord Mansfield's leanings were not towards the
popular side. '' There is little room for doubt," observes Lord Brougham, *' that
in trials for libel he leant against the freedom of discussion, and favoured those
doctrines long current, but now cried down by statute, which withdrew the cog-
nizance of the question from the jury to vest it in the Court."
Among all the great names who have been the ornament of the Courts of
Westminster, few are more popular than that of Erskine. His parliamentary
talents have, in Lord Brougham's opinion, been underrated ; but it is, he
remarks, to the Forum and not the Senate that we must hasten if we would see,
in his element and in his glory, this great man, '' beyond all comparison the
most accomplished advocate and the most eloquent that modern times have pro-
duced." f " Juries have declared that they felt it impossible to remove their
looks from him when he had riveted and, as it were, fascinated them by his first
glance ; and it used to be a common remark of men who observed his motions,
that they resembled those of a blood-horse ; as light, as limber, as much betoken-
ing strength and speed, as free from all gross superfluity or incumbrance. Then
hear his voice of surpassing sweetness, clear, flexible, strong, exquisitely fitted to
strains of serious earnestness, deficient in compass, indeed, and much less fitted to
express indignation, or even scorn, than pathos, but wholly free from either
harshness or monotony. All these, however, and even his chaste, dignified, and
appropriate action, were very small parts of this wonderful advocate's excel-
lence. He had a thorough knowledge of men, of their passions and their feel-
ings; he knew every avenue to the heart, and could at will make all its chords
vibrate to his touch." Lord Brougham's sketch of Erskine is so admirably
drawn, and presents so completely the heau ideal of an advocate, that we are
tempted to continue the quotation. '' Erskine's argumentative powers," his Lord-
* ' Statesmen; vol. i. p. 105. t 1^- 23G.
394 LONDON.
ship observes, ^' were of the highest order; clear in his statements, close in his
applications, unwearied and never to be diverted in his deductions, with a quick
and sure perception of his point, and undeviating in the pursuit of whatever
established it; endued with a nice discernment of the relative importance and
weight of different arguments, and the faculty of assigning to each its proper
place, so as to bring forward the main body of the reasoning in bold relief, and
with its full breadth, and not weaken its effect by distracting and disturbing the
attention of the audience among lesser particulars. His understanding was emi-
nently legal : though he had never made himself a great lawyer, yet could he
conduct a purely legal argument with the most perfect success; and his familiarity
with all the ordinary matters of his profession was abundantly sufficient for all
the purposes of the Forum. His memory was accurate and retentive in an ex-
traordinary degree ; nor did he ever, during the trial of a cause, forget any ||
matter, how trifling soever, that belonged to it. His presence of mind was per-
fect in action, that is, before the jury, when a line is to be taken upon the instant,
and a question risked to a witness, or a topic chosen with the tribunal, on which
the whole fate of the cause may turn. No man made fewer mistakes; none left
so few advantages unimproved ; before none was it so dangerous for an advocate
to be off his guard, for he was ever broad awake himself, and was as adventurous
as he was skilful, and as apt to take advantage of any the least opening as he
was cautious to leave none in his own battle. But to all these qualities he joined
that fire, that spirit, that courage, which gave vigour and direction to the whole,
and bore down all resistance. No man, with all his address and prudence, ever
adventured upon more bold figures, and they were uniformly successful ; for his
imagination was vigorous enough to sustain any flight ; his taste was correct and
even severe, and his execution felicitous in the highest degree. . . . His acquaint-
ance with the English tongue was so perfect, and his taste so exquisite, that
nothing could exceed the beauty of his diction, whatever subject he attempted."
To this admirable account of Erskine's oratorical powers. Lord Brougham
appends a notice of his qualifications as a Nisi Prius advocate : — " His speaking
was hardly more perfect than his examination of witnesses, the art in which so
much of an English advocate's skill is shown ; and his examination-in-chief was
as excellent as his cross-examination, — a department so apt to deceive the vulgar,
and which yet is, generally speaking, far less available, as it hardly ever is more
difficult than the examination-in-chief or in reply. In all these various functions,
whether of addressing the jury, or urging objections to the Court, or examining
his own witnesses, or cross-examining his adversary's, this consummate advocate
appeared to fill, at one and the same time, different characters ; to act as the
counsel and representative of the party, and yet to be the very party himself;
while he addressed the tribunal to be also acquainted with every feeling and
thought of the judge or the jury ; and while he interrogated the witness, whether
to draw from him all he knew, and in the most favourable shape, or to shake and
displace all he said that was adverse, he appeared to have entered into the mind
of the person he was dealing with, and to be familiar with all that was passing
within it. It is by such means that the hearer is to be moved and the truth
ascertained ; and he will ever be the most successful advocate who can approach
the nearest to this lofty and difficult position." But the deeds which Erskine did
1 1
COURTS OF LAW.
;95
cast into the shade even his transcendant eloquence. He upheld the liberty of
the press and the rights of the people at a time when, but for his dauntless
energy and courage, both were endangered. His noblest and most successful
efforts were made in behalf of defendants in political prosecutions, which, but for
him, would perhaps have ended in persecutions and proscriptions. Like most
men of great minds, Erskine was ''simple, natural, and amiable; full of humane
feelings and kindly affections." The egotism with which he is chargeable was of
the best-natured and least selfish kind. Erskine was called to the bar in Trinity
Term, 1778, and in the same term at once established his reputation in a prose-
cution for libel, which was, in fact, instituted by Lord Sandwich, First Lord of the
Admiralty, who, it appeared, had abused the munificence of Greenwich Hospital
by appointing landsmen as pensioners, to serve his own electioneering purposes.
It is said that such was the effect of Erskine's indignant speech, that, before he
left the Court, thirty retainers were presented to him. In 1806, on the formation
of the Grenville ministry, Erskine was appointed Lord Chancellor, and raised to
the peerage. On the dissolution of this ministry in 1807, he retired from public
life, and died in 1823.
[Lord Ellenborough.]
Lord Ellenborough, son of Law, Bishop of Carlisle, first distinguished himself
as the leading counsel for Mr. Hastings in his famous trial, and soon after rose
to the lead of the northern circuit. He entered parliament as Attorney-General
in his fifty-first year. In Westminster Hall he never rose into the first lead,
having to contend, amongst other eminent rivals, with Erskine. During eighteen
years he presided over the Court of King's Bench. Of his judicial qualifications
Lord Brougham, who must have had opportunities of knowing them minutely,
thus speaks :—'' The chief defect of Lord Ellenborough's judicial character, not
unconnected with the hastiness of his temper, also bore some relation to the vigour
of his understanding, which made him somewhat contemptuous of weaker men,
and somewhat overweening in reliance upon himself. He was not sufficiently
patient and passive, as a judge ought habitually to be. He was apt to overlook
suggestions, which, though valuable, might be more feebly urged than suited his
palate. He was fond of taking the case prematurely into his own hands. He
dispatched business with great celerity, and, for the most part, with success. But
causes were not sifted before him with that closeness of scrutiny, and parties were
not suffered to bring forward all they had to state with that fullness and freedom.
396 LONDON.
which alone can prevent misdecision, and ensure the due administration of justice.
But in banc, where full time has been given for preparation, where the Court can
never be taken by surprise, where, moreover, the assistance of three puisne judges
is ever at hand to remedy the chief's defects and control his impatience, this hasty
disposition and warm temperament were comparatively harmless, and seldom
produced mischievous effects to the suitor. At Nisi Prius it is far otherwise ; for
there a false step is easily made, and it may not be easily retraced."
[The Earl of Eldon.J
One of the most remarkable men who ever filled the office of chancellor was
Lord Eldon, the peculiarities of whose professional life, as sketched by Lord
Brougham, will be read with interest by every one. His lordship says: — ''That
he had all the natural qualities, and all the acquired accomplishments, which go
to form the greatest legal character, is undeniable. To extraordinary acuteness
and quickness of apprehension he added a degree of patient industry which no
labour could weary, a love of investigation which no harshness in the most un-
interesting subject could repulse. His ingenuity was nimble in a singular degree,
and it was inexhaustible ; subtlety was at all times the most distinguishing fea-
ture of his understanding ; and, after all other men's resources had been spent,
he would at once discover matters which, though often too far refined for use,
yet seemed so natural to the ground which his predecessors had laboured and
left apparently bare, that no one could deem them exotic and far-fetched, or even
forced. When, with such powers of apprehending and of inventing, he possessed
a memory almost unparalleled, and alike capable of storing up and readily pro-
ducing both the most general principles and the most minute details, it is need-
less to add that he became one of the most thoroughly learned lawyers who ever
appeared in Westminster Hall, if not the most learned; for, when it is recollected
that the science has been more than doubled in bulk, and in variety of subjects
has been increased fourfold, since the time of Lord Coke, it is hardly possible to
question his superiority to the great light of English jurisprudence, the only man
in our legal history with whom this comparison can be instituted." * Lord
Brougham afterwards adds : — '' It would be no exaggeration at all to assert that
Lord Eldon's judgments were more quickly formed, and more obstinately adhered
to, than those of any other judge who ever dealt with such various, difficult, and
complicated questions as he had to dispose of." The author of the chapter on
' Constitution, Government, and Laws,' in the • Pictorial History of England'
* ' Statesmen,' ii., 61.
COURTS OF LAW.
397
(George III., vol. iv. p. 642), doubts the accuracy of this opinion, and quotes
several cases in proof of the case being quite otherwise, in one of which Lord
Eldon surpassed himself by beginning a decision with the remark that " Having
had doubts upon this will for twenty years," &c. In another instance he observed
that he had " not doubt enough'* to postpone the judgment.
[LordStowell]
Sir William Scott (Lord Stowell) was probably more eminent in his depart-
ment (the Consistorial Courts) than his better-known brother. Lord Chancellor
Eldon. Lord Brougham observes that '' his judgment was of the highest cast;
calm, firm, enlarged, penetrating, profound." His Lordship adds : — " They who
deal with such causes as occupied the attention of this great Judge have this
advantage, that the subjects are of a nature connecting them with general prin-
ciples, and the matter at stake is most frequently of considerable importance,
not seldom of the greatest interest. The masses of property of which the Con-
sistorial Courts have to dispose, are often very great; the matrimonial rights on
which they have to decide are of an interest not to be measured by money at all ;
but the questions which arise in administering the law of nations comprehend
within their scope the highest national rights, involve the existence of peace
itself, define the duties of neutrality, set limits to the prerogatives of war."
[Sir William Grant.]
During a part of the time that Lord Eldon sat in the Court of Chancery, the
office of Master of the Rolls, the second Judge in Equity, was filled by Sir
William Grant. While, generally speaking, the most successful lawyers are little
398 LONDON.
known in Parliament, the public character of Sir William Grant rested entirely
on his successful parliamentary career until he was raised to the Bench. Lord
Brougham's notice of him as a parliamentary speaker is as follows : — " His style
was peculiar ; it was that of the closest and severest reasoning ever heard in any
popular assembly; reasoning which would have been reckoned close in the
argumentation of the Bar or the dialectics of the schools. It was, from the first
to the last, throughout, pure reason, and the triumph of pure reason. All was
sterling, all perfectly plain ; there was no point in the diction, no illustration in
the topics, no ornament of fancy in the accompaniments. The language was
choice, perfectly clear, abundantly correct, quite concise, admirably suited to the
matter which the words clothed and conveyed. In so far it was felicitous, no
further ; nor did it ever leave behind it any impression of the diction, but only
of the things said ; the words were forgotten, for they had never drawn off the
attention for a moment from the things; those things were alone remembered-
No speaker was more easily listened to; none so difficult to answer. Once, Mr.
Fox, when he was hearing him with a view to making that attempt, was irritated
in a way very unwonted to his sweet temper by the conversation of some near
him, even to the show of some crossness, and (after an exclamation) sharply said,
"Do you think it so very pleasant a thing to have to answer a speech like that?"
Lord Brougham's picture of the Rolls Court, in Sir William Grant's time, is
interesting as a legal reminiscence, besides conveying in the most skilful manner
a correct idea of the presiding Judge : — " The Court in those days presented a
spectacle which afforded true delight to every person of sound judgment and pure
taste. After a long and silent hearing — a hearing of all that could be urged by
the counsel of every party — unbroken by a single word, and when the spectator
of Sir William Grant (for he was not heard) might suppose that his mind had
been absent from a scene in which he took no apparent share, the debate was
closed — the advocates' hour was passed — the parties were in silent expectation of
the event — the Hall no longer resounded with any voice — it seemed as if the
affair of the day, for the present, was over, and the Court was to adjourn, or to
call for another cause. No ! the Judge's time had now arrived, and another artist
was to fill the scene. The Great Magistrate began to pronounce his judgment,
and every eye and every ear was at length fixed upon the bench. Forth came
a strain of clear unbroken fluency, disposing alike, in most luminous order, of all
the facts and of all the arguments in the cause, reducing into clear and simple
arrangement the most entangled masses of broken and conflicting statement;
weighing each matter, and disposing of each in succession ; settling one doubt by
a parenthetical remark ; passing over another difficulty by a reason only more
decisive that it was condensed ; and giving out the whole impression of the case,
in every material view, upon the Judge's mind, with argument enough to show
why he so thought, and to prove him right, and without so much reasoning as to
make you forget that it was a judgment you were hearing, by over-stepping the
bounds which distinguish a judgment from a speech. This is the perfection of
judicial eloquence ; not avoiding argument ; but confining it to such reasoning
as beseems him who has rather to explain the grounds of his own conviction than
to labour at convincing others ; not rejecting reference to authority, but never
betokening a disposition to seek shelter behind other men's names, for what he
COURTS OF LAW. 399
might fear to pronounce in his own person ; not disdaining even ornaments but
those of the more chastened graces that accord with the severe standard of a
Judge's oratory." Sir William Grant was a man of simple habits, and somewhat
remarkable for his taciturnity and reserve. As a politician he was more narrow-
minded than even several other most distinguished lawyers. With him originated
the phrase of '' The wisdom of our ancestors." In his time the Rolls Court sat
in the evening from six to ten ; and Sir William dined after the Court rose ; his
servant, it is said, when he went to bed, leaving two bottles of wine on the table
which he always found empty in the morning. Sir William Grant lived in the
Rolls House, occupying two or three rooms on the ground-floor; and, when
showing them to his successor in the Rolls, he said, '' Here are two or three o-ood
rooms; this is my dining-room; my library and bedroom are beyond; and I am
told," he added, ''there are some good rooms up-stairs; but I never was there."
The name of Romilly at once commands respect and admiration. His career
and merits are too well known to require notice here ; but the contrast which
Lord Brougham has drawn between the technical and what was contemptuously
called the '' speculative lawyer," is rendered doubly striking by a reference to
Romilly. His Lordship says, — " The great triumph of Sir Samuel Romilly was
a sore stumbling-block to technical minds. A free-thinker upon legal matters, if
ever any existed; accomplished, learned, eloquent, philosophical; he yet rose to
the very head of his profession, and compelled them to believe what Erskine had
failed to make them admit — that a man may be minutely learned in all the mere
niceties of the law, down to the very meanest details of Court Practice, and yet
be able to soar above the higher levels of general speculation, and to charm by
his eloquence and enlighten by his enlarged wisdom, as much as to rule the Bench
and lead the Bar by his merely technical superiority."*
We have passed over the names of many distinguished men — Hardwicke,
Kenyon, Dunning, and others — who have been illustrious at the bar and on the
bench, and whose field of fame was the Courts at Westminster Hall. No doubt
there would be some violation of the religio loci by the removal of these courts to
any other site ; but it is satisfactory to know that respect and veneration for our
judicial tribunals do not depend upon any sentimental feelings, but on the moral
influence which attends the righteous discharge of their duties by the judges. Lord
Langdale, the present Master of the Rolls, when examined before a parliamentary
committee, said, — -" I have seen the Vice-Chancellor of England sitting in a dense
crowd in the council-room of Lincoln's Inn ; I have seen him sitting in the auction-
room above the Masters' offices, and in diff'erent committee-rooms of this house.
I have seen the Chief Baron of the Exchequer sitting in a kind of hut erected in
Westminster Hall on the site of what was the Court of King's Bench; but I
have never known that there was any want of respect for the Judges, nor do
I think that the place in which they sit can have any material effect upon their
dignity."
Three sites have been mentioned as suitable for a building which should con-
tain under one roof all the Courts of Law and Equity. Each of these sites is
of course in the law quarter of the town; one being Lincoln's Inn Fields;
another the Rolls Estate, close to Chancery Lane ; and the third a space between
* ' statesmen,' i. 212.
400
LONDON.
Bell Yard and Clement's Lane. Mr. Barry, the architect of the New Houses of
Parliament, made plans at the desire of a number of gentlemen of the legal pro-
fession, for Courts adapted for the first of the above sites, Lincoln's Inn Fields,
which, with the Gardens and New Square, have an area of about eighteen acres
and one-third. According to Mr. Barry's plan the proposed Courts would be
fifty feet high, and would cover an area of two acres and one- third, or between
one-eighth and one-tenth of the open space alluded to. The accommodation
would be for twelve Courts of Law and Equity, with their several appendages,
and a Common Hall for the public, nearly equal to the area of Westminster Hall,
on the principal floor. Each of the proposed Courts to have an attached room
for the Judges, a room for the Judges* clerks, a room for barristers, a room for
solicitors, a room for witnesses, and in the Law Courts the means of access to the
witness-box, without interruption from the public. On the same floor would also
be obtained retiring-rooms for juries, rooms for grand juries, for the grand
inquest, for libraries, for refreshments, for consultations, &c. It is also pro-
posed, according to this design, that the whole of the records of the country
should be arranged on the ground floor, where sufficient space would be afforded
for an increase of about one-third of the present number, and accommodation
provided for record offices, examining-rooms, &c. ; likewise that the Masters in
Chancery should be accommodated in the upper floor of the proposed building ;
and that rooms should be provided for resident court- keepers, porters^ &c. The
cost of the proposed building would be about 200,000Z.
[Lipvd Chancellor Bathur»t and the Six Clerks' Office in Chancery Lane. From Mr. Hawkins' private collection.}
401
ALPHABETICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Admiralty, and the Trinity House, The
Advertisements
Banks .
Barher Surgeons' Hall . •
Beer .....
Ben Jonson's London, No. I
Ben Jonson's London, No. 2 .
Bermondsey ....
Bermondsey, Modern . .
Billingsgate ....
Bills of Mortality .
Blackfriars Bridge .
British Museum, The
Buckingham and Old Westminst
Palaces
Charities, Endowed and Miscellaneo
Charter House, The
Christ's Hospital .
Churches of London, The, No. 1
Churches of London, The, No. 2
Churches of London, The, No. 3
Civic Government .
Clean your Honour's Shoes
Clerk enwell ....
College of Arms
College of Physicians, The
College of Surgeons, The .
Companies of London, The
Corn Exchange, The
Courts of Law
Covent Garden
Crosby Place
Custom House, The
Docks, The ....
Doctors' Commons
East India House, The .
Education in London, No. 1
Education in London, No. 2 .
Ely Place ....
Excise Office, The
Exeter Hall .
Exhibitions of Art
Fleet Marriages
Fleet Prison, The
Foundling Hospital, The
Goldsmiths' Hall .
Guildhall, Historical Recollections of
VOL. VI.
Vol.
page
The V.
145
Y.
33
IV.
17
III.
177
IV.
1
I.
305
I.
381
in.
1
III.
17
IV.
193
vr.
225
III.
113
VI.
161
VI.
113
DUS VI.
337
II.
113
II.
329
V.
161
V.
177
V.
193
V.
81
I.
17
III.
129
VL
81
II.
17
in.
193
V.
113
III.
353
VI.
385
V.
129
I.
317
II.
401
IIL
65
V.
1
V.
49
VI.
1
VL
17
in.
369
V.
97
V.
241
VL
273
IV.
49
IV.
33
IIL
337
III.
385
)f V.
6o
Horse Guards, The
Horticultural and Royal Botanic S
cieties, The
House of Commons, The, No. 1
House of Commons, The, No. 2
Houses of the Old Nobility
Inns of Court, No. 1
Inns of Court, No. 2
Lambeth Palace
Learned Societies .
London Antiquaries
London Astrologers
London Booksellers, The Old
London Bridge
London Burials
London Fires
London Newspapers
London Rogueries, Old
London Shops and Bazaars
Lord Mayor's Show, The
Medical and Surgical Hospitals, and
Lunatic Asylums
Metropolitan Boroughs, The
Midsummer Eve
Military London .
Milton's London .
Mint, The .
Monument, The
Music ....
National Gallery and Soane Museum
The ....
Old Bailey, The .
Old Jewry, The
Pall Mall .
Parks, The .
Parks, The .
Paul's Cross .
Piccadilly
Post Office, The .
Prisons and Penitentiaries
Priory and Church of St. Bartholo
mew, The, No. 1
Priory and Church of St. Eartholo
mew. The, No. 2
Public Refreshments
Public Statues
Railway Termini .
Vol.
P.i^'e
V.
209
V.
305
II.
(35
n.
81
VI.
97
IV.
353
IV.
369
I.
•257
VI.
3,.9
II.
181
in.
2-11
V.
225
I.
73
IV.
161
IV.
177
V.
337
JV.
145
V.
385
VL
145
V.
369
VL
257
I.
97
VI.
321
IL
97
in.
33
I.
4; 9
VL
177
VI.
241
IV.
2^9
VI.
33
IIL
289
I.
205
I.
185
I.
33
I.
297
III.
273
V.
3il
IL
33
n.
49
IV.
305
VI.
65
VI.
305
•J D
402
ALPHABETICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Ranelagh and Vauxhall .
Reading Room of the British Mu-
seum, The
Royal Academy, The, No. 1 .
Royal Academy, The, No: 2 .
Royal Exchange, Old, and its Foundc
Royal Exchange and tJie South Se;
House ....
Roman London
Roman Remains, The ,
Scotsmen in London
Silent Highway, The
Sketches of the History of Crime an(
Police in London
Smithfield ....
Society of Arts, &c., in the Adelphi
The
Some Features of London Life iu the
Last Century . . •
Somerset House
Something about London Churches
at the close of the Fourteenth Cen-
tury .....
Spitalfields ....
Spring-Time iu London, The Old
Squares of London, The
Stationers' Company, The
Stock Exchange
Strand, The, No. 1
Strand, The, No. 2
Strawberry Hill. Walpole's London, No. 1
Strawberry Hill. "Walpole's London, No. 2
Street Noises ....
Street Sights ' . . . .
St. Giles's, Past and Present . .
St. James's Palace . ,
Vol.
Page
L
397
IV.
3S5
in.
209
III.
225
II.
2^1
II.
297
I.
145
I.
281
III.
321
I.
1
IV.
225
II.
313
V.
II.
IV.
IV.
XL
I.
VI.
VI.
VI.
IL
IL
IIL
IIL
I.
I.
III.
II.
353
345
273
209
3^.5
169
193
209
289
149
165
97
145
129
413
257
369
St. John's Gate
St. Mary Overies .
St. Paul's, Old, No. I .
St. Paul's, Old, No. 2 .
St. Paul's, New, No. I .
St. Paul's, NeAv, No. 2 .
St. Paul's, The Building of
Suburban Milestones
Tabard, The
Tattersall's
Temple Church, The, No. 1
Temple Church, The, No. 2
Thames Tunnel, The
Theatres of London, The
Tower, The, No. 1
Tower, The, No. 2
Tower, The, No. 3
Tower, The, No. 4
Tower, The, No. 5
Trading Companies, Old
Treasury, The
Underground
Vauxhall, Waterloo, and Southwark
Bridges
Westminster Abbey, No. 1
Westminster Abbej-, No. 2
Westminster Abbey, No. 3
Westminster Abbey, No. 4
Westminster Abbey, No. 5
W^estminster Bridge
Westminster Hall and the New
Houses of Parliament
Whitehall, Old
Whitehall, New .
Zoological Society, Gardens of the
Vol.
Page
II.
\33
I.
113
IV.
241
IV.
257
IV.
321
IV.
337
IL
1
I
241
J.
57
VI.
353
IIL
305
V.
17
IIL
49
V.
273
II.
201
IL
217
IL
233
IL
2!9
IL
265
VL
49
V.
2S9
I.
225
III.
161
IV.
65
IV.
81
IV.
97
IV.
113
IV.
129
III.
81
VI.
129
I.
333
I.
349
V.
257
THE END.
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